Remember Me
by arghthecat
Summary: High School AU: A year ago Dean received devastating news that would change his life forever. He's gone from Lawrence for awhile as a result, but when he gets back he meets the strange new kid, Castiel. Castiel shows him that life's too short to not go after the things he wants. Warnings: Terminal illness
1. It's the end of the world as we know it

**A/N: **This is a story loosely based on what happened to my best friend in middle school. Even though it happened ages ago, I still remember how awesome she was and how much I miss her.

Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own. Let me know if you find any and I'll be happy to fix them. Please Read & Review! It helps to know what you guys think about this story or what you like or don't like. Even if you want to just drop by and say "I like it so far," it makes me happy!**  
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**Warnings: **Major Character Death

* * *

His mom cried for hours when they finally received the news, but his Dad didn't. He was either too shocked to shed a tear or really just trying to put on his best brave face for everyone. It was something that would turn their lives upside down and leave a permanent mark on the Winchester family for years to come, but none of them could've suspected that _this_ would be how Dean was going to be his summer before junior year.

They really should've seen the signs.

"What's wrong, baby?" his mom asks as she finishes up washing dishes. Dean never understood why she does them by hand when there's a perfectly good dishwasher sitting in the kitchen, rarely ever touched.

"'S nothing. My head just hurts" he responds as he grabs his ready-made after school sandwich off of the kitchen table.

"Are you getting sick? Do I need to call Dr. Schwartz and make an appointment?" Mary says as she hovers over him feeling his head, checking his pulse, and generally being way too overprotective right then. But what did he expect? That was just mom.

"No mom, seriously. I'm just a little stressed is all" Dean says to try to quell his mom's worries.

"Take it easy. In a few weeks you'll have the summer to relax and enjoy your freedom. Can you really believe that you'll be a junior next year? I can't believe my baby's growing up." Mary starts in on her "my kids are leaving me" rants.

Dean knows it's hard to stop her when she gets like this but he tries.

"I'm not going anywhere mom. I'm only gonna be a junior and you know I couldn't leave you here with Sam and Dad to drive you crazy." He grins cheekily at her and she hits him playfully with her dishrag.

The moment plays on repeat in Mary's head and she recalls every moment with her son after she's calmed down and has time to process the news. How could she not have known that something was wrong with her baby? If she had, maybe their lives wouldn't be falling apart in an instant. Maybe Dean could still be carefree and excited about making it closer to the end of his high school career. Maybe he'd still be able to just be a kid. At this point, there were too many maybes and enough to realize that sometimes life was really too short and Dean didn't have time to dwell on the could've beens.

* * *

Dean had been having the headaches for a while now, but just chocked it up to stressing about final exams. He really, really needed to pass them all with either As to get at least a C and even that came with ridiculous amounts of groveling to his teachers and begging them for extra credit assignments. There was no way he'd make it to the 11th grade if he didn't get his shit together and his dad had told him in no uncertain terms that he'd take away the Impala if he didn't shape up. Ever the obedient son, Dean did just that. He'd never been a star student, not like Sam, but he wouldn't disappoint his dad. He'd quit his bullshittin' and eek out the necessary scores to pass. He really should've spent more time paying attention and less time sexting Lisa in every class they weren't in together and hiking up her skirt in the back of Biology behind the huge black lab tables.

Hindsight.

The headaches also weren't helped by the sudden strain in his relationship with Lisa. Sure, the sex was great and she was drop dead gorgeous. Long dark hair and eyes that sparkled whenever she'd hear something funny-it was everything that he should want. No question. But something was always just off. As much as his teenage hormones screamed at him to_ not fuck this up Winchester_, he was still just a 16-year-old boy with serious issues opening up to people. He couldn't give her what she wanted. Why'd they have to get so serious so fast?

Some days he told himself that he might love her- he could try to anyways, but was always too chicken shit to ever say the words. Too afraid that he'd never be able to tell if he really meant it or not. The _or not_ constantly nagging in his brain. The first time she'd said it to him he went rigid. They had just come back from bowling with her crowd and were parked off-road on the way back home getting far too comfortable in his back seat. He'd have to remember to wash it and apologize to his baby for what they'd done back there. After, he'd given in and cuddled with her like he knew she wanted and the words slipped out of her mouth unbidden. After dating for 7 months, it was really only natural that this would come up, but he'd dreaded the day it would finally happen. He knew he didn't feel that way about her. That ever persistent and annoying voice in the back of his head telling him that he _knew _why he couldn't. So it was in the backseat of his Impala where the beginning of the end began when Dean muttered a half-hearted "Mhm" and held her closer.

It seemed like everything began to snowball after the night he just couldn't deliver. Their fights weren't huge, weren't epic, or even tear inducing. Everything that seemed to scream _She's not right for you _just bubbled to the surface with every passing day. He realized with increasing annoyance that he didn't just dislike hanging out with her friends, but he well and truly hated them. They were a bunch of dicks. Shallow, bitchy dicks. He of course put up with Ruby as much as he could because Lisa loved her to death, but a guy could only take so much. He was walking a fine line and one more ill placed word by Ruby would make him snap.

But then, it also wasn't just Ruby, or his need to punch the bitchiness right out of her-_Dean Winchester never hit girls._ He was just never the extremely sociable type and the thought of hanging out with any of Lisa's friends seemed to only further fuel his headaches. If he had to go to one more of those cheerleader parties with high-pitched squeals in his ear and hearing one more jock utter "brooooo!" he'd fucking vomit.

The day she insulted _Kansas_, Dean knew that this, whatever the fuck it was turning into, was shot to hell. The shock on his face at that may have been a little over the top, but hell if she couldn't appreciate his music then how could they even _be. _His subconscious begged him to build a bridge because he was acting like a child, but the straw pile was getting thin and the last one was bound to be plucked out soon. That last shoe _had _to drop. Even still, a little more tact would've been appreciated on her part.

Dean rounded the corner to the locker room when he heard noises. It wasn't the usual annoying girl squeal of a dozen cheerleaders and their "ready okays," but it sounded like…No, that wasn't it. Couldn't be. He'd gone looking for her and figured Lisa would be in the locker rooms getting dressed after cheerleading practice. They had plans to hang out for the weekend because Sam and his parents had gone down to New Orleans to visit his aunt Roxy and Dean had convinced them to let him stay. Obviously, Lisa had forgotten. He didn't plan to go into the girls' locker room. He never did. He usually just waited for Lisa to walk out, but the familiar moans he was hearing piqued his curiosity and he just had to see. Didn't want to see, but just _had _to because he somehow knew what he'd find.

_Damn it Dean, do you not remember the saying about what curiosity did to that poor cat_? the voice in his head supplied. He tells it to shut up and makes his way to the back of the locker room and hopes that he doesn't get caught in there by a coach or something.

_You just had to go in didn't you Winchester? _

Yeah, he really did just _have_ to go in there and he pointedly ignores that stupid nagging voice and with his own voice riddled with barely contained rage yells,"What the fucking _fuck_ Lisa?!"

Like a dear caught in headlights she just stared. Mouth slack, eyes wide and very, obviously in the middle of an orgasm. "D-dean, what are you doing here?"

Really? Is that _really _what she just asked?

All he could manage was a strained "What?"

In this moment, this moment like a bad dream or crappy romantic comedy, he tries to stay calm, tries his hardest not to explode like a fucking volcano, but that just isn't working out. It's only after the shock starts to lessen that he comes back to his senses and remembers what he saw when he first walked in. Lisa, sex, a person besides him. He takes a step forward to get a better look at who's crouched between her legs, very obviously trying to hide his face. His heart starts beating faster, his head feels like it's on fire and he's grinding his fingers into his palm so hard that he's sure he's breaking the skin.

"Luke?" he questions through gritted teeth. He's hoping against hope that isn't who it is. Hopes that the voice that answers him back isn't the one he's known for the last four years.

He doesn't believe it, doesn't want to believe it. Luke, his best fucking friend. No, his only fucking friend on his knees in front of _his_ girlfriend. Sure he was one of them, a jock, but he and Dean had been friends since 7th grade because he was different than the rest of the too cool for you assholes that acted like they owned the place. They were closer than close. Brothers even. How seriously wrong he was-he was pretty sure his own brother wouldn't pull this kind of shit.

It was low. Just wrong and-_evil._ Dean felt it like a punch in his gut that the only guy that he'd let into his life besides family would royally screw him over. The bro-code obviously meant less to him than the feelings of an absolute stranger.

Untucking his face from between Lisa's legs and underneath her skirt, Luke tried and quickly failed to explain himself. "Man, I'm sorry. You're my best friend. This really isn't what it-" Luke begins to say, but before he can even finish the sentence Dean has already barreled into him and is punching him senseless. He hasn't even registered Lisa's screaming in the background until Luke was almost unconscious. He stops, knuckles cut and purple, got up and walks to the door of the girls' locker room. Before he leaves, he turns around and catches the absolute horror on Lisa's face.

"I'm so sorry, so, so sorry Dean. I didn't want you to find out this way. It just happened. I was gonna tell you. I was gonna _try_ to tell you. It just never seemed like the right time. You know we've been drifting apart. Things haven't been right in a while" she rambles, trying to explain herself.

Dean stops her from further digging a whole she has no hope of climbing out of. Yeah, he knew they'd been coasting along in this relationship for months, just trying to keep it afloat because it'd become routine and comfortable, but he wouldn't have done that to her. He'd have let her down gently and maybe, just maybe after the dust had settled she and Luke could've been together with his blessing and they could've all been friends. But that wasn't the way life worked, wasn't the way adolescence worked. So instead, he's finding himself standing face to face with his _ex_-girlfriend trying to explain the unexplainable, his ex-bestfriend unconscious on the floor, and the feeling that something just broke irreparably. He turns then before he does or says something further that he'll regret and walks down the hall of the locker rooms, out of the gym and to his car.

After all of his stupid teenage drama, could anyone really blame his headaches? How could he have known that they were anything other than a manifestation of the stress of adolescence? He really, really wished that the universe would stop ruining his damn life and let him be just for once. He just wanted to enjoy this summer and get over the sting of Lisa and Luke's betrayal and revel in the fact that he'd pulled off the necessary grades.

Instead he had to be dealing with this.


	2. Can you hear my call?

Thanks for the story alerts and favs guys! It means a lot. For that, here's a new chappie. :)

Update: So, here I am preparing to evacuate for a hurricane. The price of being a southern girl I suppose. Please keep us in your thoughts.

* * *

Dean Winchester never really had many friends. He'd had Luke, and Jo had been one of the guys since he'd even figured out what friends were. He wasn't the school's resident asshole, but he stayed to himself most of the time. He never figured he needed more than Luke and Jo in his life. Now, even after everything that happened he still had Jo. She was still one of the few constants in his life. Which is why when Dean stopped answering her phone calls she was befuddled.

Jo was even more confused when she went over to cheer him up and Mrs. Winchester told her that Dean wouldn't see anyone. When had she become just anyone? That'd stung a bit. But, despite the residual hurt, she was determined to get to the bottom of why her friend was avoiding her. She was desperate, so she resorted to asking Luke if he'd heard anything.

She knew Dean would feel like she was betraying him by going to Luke, but with the thought that she was doing this for the greater good Jo dialed Luke's number.

It rung four times before he finally picked up. "Uhh—Hey Jo. What's up?"

Jo rolled her eyes even though Luke couldn't see her. Just because he and Dean were being megadouches to each other didn't mean he had to act weird with her. "Cut it out Luke. You don't have to act nervous around me."

Luke was silent awhile before he answered. "…So you're not mad?"

"Of course I'm pissed at you. How could you do that to our best friend? It was messed up." Jo sighed down the line. "I'm not calling to lecture or yell at you. I know you feel bad already. I just wanted to know about Dean."

"I know I screwed up, but he won't even hear me out. But, why would I know about Dean? I haven't talked to him since it happened."

" I don't know. I figured I give it a shot. Thought maybe you heard something. I'm really worried about him. He hasn't answered my calls. He's won't answer my messages on IM. I go to his house and parents tell me he doesn't want to see me. I don't know what I did wrong. I'm the innocent one!" Jo finally tried to catch her breath after spilling her worry out to Luke.

Luke didn't know what to say to that. He felt bad about putting Jo in the middle of this, but he was pretty sure he enjoyed having all of his teeth and he wasn't about to go see Dean himself. " Jo, I don't know what to tell ya. I'm not going over there. He'll get over being mad eventually. He'll come around and talk to us when this blows over."

"You obviously don't know Dean Winchester as much as you think you do. What you did was huge. I just don't understand why he won't see _me_." Jo replied with a sigh.

"Maybe you can try catching up with Sam."

Jo thought about it a second before she replied, "I knew there was something other than mush in your stupid jock brain" and hung before Luke could retort.

Good idea or not, it was also a bust. It was the same treatment from Sam when she tried to text or IM him.

_Hey Sam. What's up with you brother? – Jo_

_Don't tell me you're not talking to me either. –Jo _

_Wth is goin' on! –Jo _

**Roadhousegirl24:** Sam, are you there?

**Rifle98 is away. **

**Roadhousegirl24: **Please, just-when you get this message me back. I miss you guys.

It went on like this for a few more days until it became painfully obvious that Dean didn't want to be bothered. Jo was nothing if not persistent and she wasn't gonna let it go. He was her best friend and she wasn't gonna let whatever the hell was going on come between them.

So that's how Jo found herself climbing up the ladder that lay on the side of Dean's house to sneak into Dean's room through his window. Dean had made her swear never to do it again after she'd caught him in an extremely compromising position with the Kansas fire departments monthly calendar and a bottle of lube. But hey, desperate times. She'd risk it this one last time.

Jo made it to the top of the ladder and pushed the window open. Dean would seriously learn to lock the damn window before it turned out to be a slasher instead of her.

Jo had expected to find Dean watching marathons of Dr. Sexy, possibly listening to sappy love songs and generally woe is me-ing his heart out. It wasn't highly likely, but she'd never seen Dean get his heart broken either, so there was a first time for everything.

What she found was not at all like the remnants of a broken hearted teenager. It was more like some freaky episode of the _Twilight Zone. Dean's room was clean-_empty, but more importantly_ clean. _Everything that was left behind was neatly stacked in its place. His _Metallica _and _Zeppelin _albums were actually _on the rack. _His bed was made for God's sake. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.

"What the hell is going on Dean?" Jo asked herself as she took one final look around his room and headed for the rest of the house.

Yeah, she was definitely breaking and entering, but with good reason. She figured that the cops would have to see that if she got caught. She walked through the halls tiptoeing quietly as if someone was really in there to hear her. She then came upon Sam's room. It was in normal order, but from being in there several times she could tell that a lot of his things were gone too.

Maybe they'd gone on vacation.

Gone on vacation and not told her? That didn't seem like them at all. She'd been going on summer vacations with the Winchesters for most of her life. There was something she wasn't getting and the feeling that Dean was hiding something from her started to take shape the more she thought about it.

It was with a heavy stomach that Jo climbed back out of the window, down the ladder and headed back to her house. She wouldn't see Dean or his family for the rest of that summer.


	3. Hate me today

A summer away from Kansas turns into an entire year.

Lawrence in all its small town glory act as though a limb has been cut off when there are no signs of the Winchesters returning. When pillars of the community just up and disappear with no word or trace as to where they'd gone, well that was cause for alarm in a town of 1800. No for sale sign goes up. No potential residents sniff around the place. No one could even remember if they'd seen a moving van show up. The Winchesters were even prudent enough to leave note with the local sheriff's office that said _no we haven't been kidnapped by homicidal maniacs and yes we're alive. Don't send the cavalry_. Dean got to write the note. He figured it was the least he was owed for being dragged to who-knows-where for literally who-knows-what.

So naturally, when word got out that the Winchesters weren't coming back for an undetermined amount of time, the rumor mill went into overdrive.

Mrs. Christensen was like the oil to start the machine. For some reason Mary could never fathom or remember for that matter, the woman hated her. She'd lived three doors down from the Winchesters and always turned her nose up at Mary during Sunday service. No one apparently gave her the whole "House of the Lord" memo. Of course she'd be the one to spread the mendacious rumor that Mary had run off with a drifter and that John had taken the boys and moved to avoid the shame.

Even more malicious was the speculation that John and Mary had found out that Sam was gay and had forced him into an ex-gay Bible camp. It wasn't _that_ farfetched an idea what with Lawrence being 90% "Man shall not lie with man as one lies with a woman." Even so, it was still underhanded gossip for people who had no proof to fuel the fire.

But then, small town rumor mill. No fuel necessary.

It continued to get so outrageous that family friends just decided to ignore the ridiculousness of it all. Because really…a traveling carnival?

* * *

_30 miles to Lawrence_

The drive from Texas back to Lawrence is by far the most excruciating thing Dean has ever endured. Mary had suggested that they take a flight, but the downright pained look on Dean's face made her quickly take that offer off the table. There was no getting through to that face, especially when what soon followed was Dean spouting the ever popular "if I was meant to fly then I'd have friggin' wings" argument that he used whenever the subject of flying was ever brought up.

So that's how Dean found himself several bathroom breaks later on what was supposed to be a 14 hour drive straight through to Kansas stuck in the back of a car with his Sasquatch of a brother. He'd begrudgingly admitted that his brother had surpassed him in height and was none to pleased to be thought of as the younger brother to people who didn't know them. That didn't stop him from pulling all the stops from the handbook of big brother annoyance. Entertainment was scare and he'd stopped caring how many bottles of beer he'd have left on a damn wall 9 hours ago.

"Sammy. Sammy. Sam. Sam. Samifer. Samifer, Samifer, Samifer, Samuel, Sam—" Dean didn't have time to think about the amateurism in his attempt to annoy Sam as he was abruptly cut off by the jab to his side and a sidelong glance from Mary in the front seat.

"Dean, leave your brother alone." Mary chided.

"Yeah, _jerk,_ leave me alone." Sam chimed in with a look of smugness that Dean was ready strangle off of his face.

"Bitch" Dean muttered low enough for Sam to hear and took to flicking his ear every time he thought John wasn't looking in the rearview.

Sam had come to expect the annoying flicks and punches to leg. Dean was a child and to expect anything that didn't resemble the antics of a 2nd grader trying to get the attention of his first crush was really just wishful thinking. The closer they got to Lawrence though, Sam noticed that the punches became few and far between and the muttered "bitch" had become non-existent.

Sam wasn't stupid. His brother thought that he was pretty good at his stiff upper lip routine, but he couldn't fool Sam. He'd _shared a room_ with Dean up until he was 10. He knew Dean well enough to know when something was wrong and it was easy to surmise, given the situation, what the problem was. Knowing Dean wasn't up for sharing is caring chick flick moments, Sam whipped out his phone and tried insulting his way into Dean's head.

_Looks like you're being the "bitch" today-Sam_

No reply. At that, Sam knew he'd have to up the ante.

_Are you really sulking because that diner chick turned you down? At least _someone_ recognized your fugliness for what it is.-Sam_

_Learn to txt like normal ppl bitch-D_

'Ok, ok. Finally getting somewhere' Sam thought to himself.

_I apologize for not wanting to sound like I just discovered the English language Dean. _-Sam

Sam had really thought he was getting somewhere with his pigheaded brother when a text came that put the kibosh on everything.

_I knw what ur doin' Sammy. Just. Don't-D_

So Sam didn't.

The rest of the trip back home passed by in peaceful silence, only the sounds of Kansas filling the car. The irony wasn't lost on Dean.

The thought of actually going _home _to Kansas freaked him out in ways he'd never freely admit without having his fingernails pulled out. He knew he was being a tiny bit irrational, but who could blame him? A year is a long time. What if no one remembered him? What if no one even cared that he was gone? What if _Jo _didn't care that he was gone? He'd begged his parents to cut all ties with home while they were on what was officially the worst "vacation" known to man. He didn't want their pity. The _very _last thing he wanted was their pity. Now he was going back after spending his entire junior year away from the only person in the world besides Sam who'd ever understood him.

Jo would definitely hate him. The girl held grudges close to her chest like they were newborn babies. No way in hell would she forgive Dean just up and leaving without even saying goodbye—without even telling her _why _he had to leave. He had no plans to tell her why anyway, so she'd probably go on hating him for something completely out of his control.

He was snapped out of his musings when Mary turned around and said "Welcome to Kansas boys" with a smile as bright as the sun. It was no big secret that the family was excited to finally be back home. But Dean? Dean couldn't help the sinking feeling in his gut that told him that he should've stayed in Texas.


	4. I hope that you make it

**A/N: **This chapter kind of got away from me with the sadness and then these characters haven't been doing what I want all week. I do hope you enjoy though. Comments and critiques are always welcome here so, R&R please! And thank you for your concern about the hurricane. Been without power and hot water for a week, but I haven't lost my mind just yet!

* * *

Lawrence was still well…Lawrence. There were fields of tall grass that seemed to go on for miles no matter which way you turned and open road of the same variety. The football field still stood two blocks away from Lawrence High. Dean notices that it has new turf now and he idly wonders where the money came from to put that in. He takes it all in with the fresh eyes of a tourist and realizes that he very well could be one.

Dean's favorite diner sits unchanged at the edge of Hero and Jefferson. He smiles a little at the same chipped blue paint that borders the place, the same flickering sign to announce fresh pastries. It feels sort of good to see that the place is the same.

Dean had seen tons of diners during their trip. Some that boasted the best mouth watering burgers, some that dared a drifter to try their triple chocolate milkshake and not walk out blissed out and content. Dean had never wanted to stop at any of them though. There was nothing like your own diner with your own booth and your own waitress with her Cheshire cat smile already knowing that you wanted a double bacon cheeseburger with two slices of pie on a good day. Man did he miss that pie. He'd have to add it to the list.

Sam had tried to get him to stop at one when they were in Texas, telling Dean that he'd totally let him eat his heart attack on a bun without batting an eye. He could add as much ketchup as he wanted and Sam wouldn't even groan exaggeratedly about the injustice of having to sit through something so tortuous. It was an olive branch that even the most stubborn man couldn't refuse. And it was tempting, but Dean just couldn't.

He'd rejected all thoughts of Lawrence, diners, old friends, girls with which he'd had unfinished business. He'd resigned himself to never leaving _that_ place. It was pathetic really. You hear all these stories about people with the fortitude of an ox. People who fought for life in the way you should when you want so badly to hold onto something you're owed. Dean was different. He had gotten it in his head that he shouldn't fight because with those odds he couldn't really win. He couldn't give himself a chance to want and fighting meant he wanted too much. It was dangerous to do so, to get attached in the smallest way. So whenever they'd pass a diner or something else reminiscent of home, Dean kept his eyes straight, keenly focused on the cars ahead as though they were unheard of spectacles.

Dean couldn't even formulate the words to let his family know why he'd given up his unabated devotion to booths and burgers, girls and fun. He was too transparent for them not to see right through him anyway. Dean had already felt guilty for what he'd put them through.

The voice in his head constantly piped up to say _you know it's not _your_ fault_, but he always managed to quell the sensible thoughts.

* * *

Being back was like trying to jam a month's worth of studying into one night. Dean's brain was on overload, his senses rushed with the sight and smell of _everything._

The sky was still that impossible shade of blue that Dean could never find in the big city and you could just breathe here. The air down south had been sticky. Humidity so high that any and everything stuck to your skin within moments of being outdoors. Mary had said that it was just something they would have to get used to, but Dean was not a creature of change. Especially not the kind that didn't come in increments as miniscule as the carving of canyons.

Dean would never admit how he longed for clean country air and to be able to just see the damn stars at night. Other than the people, he'd strangely missed the stars and the nights he'd spent with Jo just laying at Crown Point talking about how much they seriously hated Gordon and his crew, problems with Lisa, or about the new guy she'd been dating. Andy or something.

Dean could only be like that with Jo, open and laid bare. Could only talk about feelings without wanting to hang himself with her.

Sammy was his best friend too. Yet Dean tended to shy away from the serious or depressing with him. It was no wonder Sam had had a looked like a kicked puppy whenever he was around Dean now. Like he thought that Dean _wanted_ to shut him out.

Sam had just wanted to talk to him. Just wanted his big brother to climb the Great Wall of Dean and let it out. Scream at him, cry on his shoulder. Hell he'd even take a joke or two, morbid as it may have been. Sam would take damn near anything.

Dean wasn't that guy though. Though, it didn't stop him from hating alienating his brother. Not when he wanted so desperately _to _talk to him. The words he wanted to say had always hung so heavy in the air and he knew that if he pulled them down and spoke them, then it'd all be inescapable. He could never cram them back in.

* * *

Dean had built the place up so high in his head that he could only remember it as a mansion; a place so intangible that it could've never been his once. Would never be his again. But there it stood in all its suburban glory. Just a house. A typical, not so magnificent one story house, tan colored and raised three feet off the ground with a stone pathway of varying degrees of grays and browns. The pathway had been put in three years ago as a surprise for Mary for her and John's 20th anniversary. She'd seen the style in a home and gardening magazine and John had noticed the longing sigh she'd let out as she sat with her morning coffee and continuously turned to the same page.

John had raised his eyebrow and smirked at her inability to just tell him what she wanted.

Now, Dean remembers the near impossibility of getting Mary out of the house to put the plan together. They had to get this one right for mom. The anniversary before had put John in the doghouse for weeks. Mary refused to hint at what she wanted because " husbands should just know these things John." She was going for difficult that year. The pressure was on and Dean guessed that his dad was bound to screw up finding the perfect gift at least one time in all their years together.

John's boys had taken pity on him so that _that_ day would never, ever be repeated. The boys had taken on the task of convincing grandpa to feign sickness to get Mary to go up and stay with him a week while John got a crew together to get it done quickly. The boys had done it because well, John knew Samuel would've laughed in his face if he'd asked himself. Samuel loved his daughter and her happiness was everything, but he just couldn't resist the opportunity to see her husband screw up. Thus, the task was left up to Dean and Sam. Dean was always pretty good at milking Grandpa Samuel for anything he wanted, though Sam's freaky ability to communicate the big doe eyed look through a phone was what really did him in.

Even Samuel had to admit that Mary's tear streaked face and bright glistening eyes had made it all worth it. Her speechlessness even more so.

The fondness of the memory makes Dean ache down to his core. Like he's missing something or will eventually. He just knows. The idea that he'll never have more surprising moments, more chances to see his mom smile like her guys had given her the whole damn world and them some. It's a sobering thought.

* * *

Everything's just another dose of the same in Kansas. It sickened Dean a little to think that he was coming back to the same ole humdrum life he'd left behind. Slotting back into a life he no longer belonged to like the last year had never happened; like the universe hadn't crapped on him for the umpteenth time and he was only now being released from its clutches for awhile to be Dean Winchester again.

The sinking feeling in his gut grew the closer he came to actually walking up the path to the front door. It was as if it was calling him to finally open it where it hadn't been touched in months. To come back to the sense of familiarity and normalcy that it was offering up.

Dean had longed to be back at this place once; had wanted the familiar walls of his childhood home. His parents had to all but drag him to Texas kicking and screaming. His only retort was that if he was gonna die he might as well do it listening to Metallica with his feet kicked up in his _own_ room. That had done nothing but make his mother look at him with a sadness in her eyes that Dean never wanted to be on the receiving end of again. Ever. She'd spoken volumes without words in that way that only she ever had and Dean could feel the heat of that hurt boring into him like a hot poker to the chest.

During early days, Dean would imagine that it was all just some seriously freaky dream. That if he could get to the end and figure out what it all meant, what the dream was trying to get him to see, he'd wake up from it. He was loath to think that he was like the poor saps out of some movie. He knew the score. No one sugar coated things for him from the first moment he'd had to sit in the nauseatingly pale green room of Dr. Wooten. Yet, sappy he was and hope he did.

It hits Dean suddenly that this is what Uncle Bobby had felt like when Aunt Karen died. He empathizes with Bobby in a way that he never could, but he understands now. Bobby had been afraid to go back to the four walls that screamed for normalcy in the wake of an abnormal situation. Bobby had smiled during Christmas, only a few weeks after her death. Shrugged and said "Aunt Karen sure did make the best apple pie two counties over" when Dean, too young to understand, had begged for a slice of favorite dessert that only she knew how to make the way he liked.

Somehow, that Christmas had become a part of Dean. Ingrained in his flesh like a green tattoo. Looking back he can't fathom how Bobby had made it through. Picked up the pieces of his life and surged onward. But he did. Probably because he was made of something stronger; skin a little thicker than most.

* * *

Dean had obviously been staring at the door for longer than he'd thought because he heard a conspicuous cough from behind him.

Dean had been standing there, body all straight lines and face twisted in a look of consternation so fierce that gave him the look of a frightened kangaroo. You had to approach carefully or get kicked squarely in the face.

"Aren't ya gonna go in son?" John asked as he came upon Dean. Dean could _hear_ the smile in his voice. It was a tiny bit nauseating and a whole lot annoying. He didn't need this treatment.

"Yeah, yeah just…I remember it being bigger is all."

John clapped him on the shoulder and Dean could feel what his dad couldn't put into words. _It's gonna be okay son, we're gonna make it through this, you're where you belong now. _John had loved him, cared for him, ached for him, and was trying to give Dean what he thought he needed. Dean had to at least _try_ to make an effort to let his dad believe that it wasn't all for nothing, that he'd thought it was what he needed too.

John then shifted around Dean and entered the house. Dean was the last to follow.

Despite himself, Dean touched the walls with a reverence he'd only reserved for the likes of Lisa Braedan. Lisa, who'd loved him and lied to him. Lisa who'd chipped his exterior, but not enough to break it. Lisa who he'd have to see again in a week's time. Dean shook off those thoughts because he knew it was a whole lot more that _just_ seeing Lisa.

He'd made his way up the stairs and to the second floor and his eyes shifted to the pictures that Mary had left. He saw it as her way of telling the house not to worry, they'd be back. Everything would be put to rights soon enough.

Just before he makes it to the landing, he hears Sam's voice at the foot of the stairs.

"Hey, umm…do you need any help bringing your bags up? I figured you'd need…help." Sam shifted awkwardly. God, was this really how it was gonna be? Everyone walking around like he had one foot in the grave and couldn't even _do_ anything for himself. He wasn't a damn invalid.

Dean groaned inwardly and restrained himself. He knew his frustration was misplaced. They were trying. Sam was trying his damnedest to respect Dean's wishes and just not talk about it, but if he couldn't make small talk about luggage then what the hell _could_ he talk about.

Dean finally responded "Nah, Sammy" he ignored his brother's petulant look at the name "I'm pretty sure they left my hands in tact back there." Dean flashes his best grin and gives jazz hands for effect. Sam snorts and Dean feels a little better.

Dean should've known that Sam wouldn't stop there. The kid was persistent if nothing else.

"Sooooo," Oh God, Sammy. When will you ever find a better segue? "We're finally back."

"We're finally back," Dean repeats.

"Yeah, ummm I just mean that it's been awhile and I know there's a lot of people you wanna see…things you wanna do?" Sam tries. Dean knows Sam only means doing one thing with one person. This kid seriously does not let up.

The careful reserve Dean had built up started to crack at that and he'll have to regret this later because right now he just can't bring himself to care.

"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do Sam—" Sam was seriously looking like Dean was gonna go poetic and say something like _I'm gonna give this life all I've got, I'm not gonna let this get me down, I'll go to Jo and tell her everything because she deserves the truth_. He of course said everything but.

"—I'm gonna go to my room, pretend that I'm _not_ in Kansas, and wait for the clocks to stop." He turned and headed to his room ignoring the massive bitch face he knew Sam had to be sporting. Somehow he figured though that it was really the look of someone who'd had their heart shattered.

* * *

Whoever said that rooms were just rooms had never been holed up in their own personal hell for a year. They hadn't been stripped of every comfort you could ever know for what seemed like an indefinite amount of time that everyone knew was terminable.

Admitting that deep down he'd missed this place was hard. And before he could even stop himself from acting like a huge girl, salty wetness dripped on his lip. He touched two fingers to his face and marveled at them like they'd grown tiny faces. He hadn't cried. Hadn't let himself and now he does over a god damned room. He huffed a laugh at that and didn't stop after the first cry escaped his throat. He could only imagine the sight that he was, laughing and crying hysterically. He was loud enough to hear, but no one dared to come in right then. He could have this. He _should_ have this. Everyone had geared up, ready with their sandbags and canoes when the floodgates finally opened. They'd been told to expect it. He doesn't know how long he stood there in the middle of the floor, but he knows it felt good.

Dusk crept up on them lazily, stealing the light out of the sky until all that was left then was a hazy mixture of orange and deep blue hues. It had been four hours since they'd been back home and Dean had already felt the confines of the house to be suffocating. He needed to get away.

He knew that his dad would let him take the car for a drive, even against his better judgment. His parents were in hover mode, but they'd make a few concessions so that Dean could be happy. They'd probably try to steal the moon if he wanted it.

Thankful that this was a no questions necessary situation, Dean quickly grabbed his favorite leather jacket, an expensive present from his parents for the birthday he had to spend _there_, and darted out of the house before they changed their minds.

Driving the empty streets of Kansas left Dean with a lot of quiet time. The time to himself worked twofold. He got to be free of the constant glances from his family, the ever present "Are you okays?" But it left him far too much time to contemplate the things he'd rather put in the special compartment in his brain reserved for life's questions and other things he had no answers for and didn't want to think about.

This time was no different. Dean had asked himself this question 'til he was blue in the face. Screamed it to white walls until his voice was scratchy.

It was so cliché, the question. He knew for sure that people dedicated their lives to trying to answer it for others. It was one he wasn't prepared to tackle. One there was no obvious answer for.

There was no clear-cut reason for bad things happening to good people. They…just did. It was truth and it should be enough, but it did nothing but piss Dean off and for the second time that day he found his vision get blurry and his face get wet and he hated that he couldn't be bigger than this and he wanted—

His senses came back to him at just the right moment because if not he wouldn't have swerved in time. He gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned white trying to grab control back from the car as she wrestled with him for dominance.

Dean breathed an audible sigh of relief as she finally came to a stop. He unclenched his hands from the wheel and winced slightly from the pain that had developed there.

He patted his chest, pinched his face, and then rubbed sweaty palms down his jeans. It was nearly comical the way he almost fell to his knees and screamed "I'm alive!" to the top of his lungs 'til he was hoarse as he stumbled out of the car on unbalanced legs. He them realized that, fuck he'd almost _died_ just then and silently thanked _someone_ for not letting him go out like that. That'd have been the biggest cosmic fuck you in the history of tragic ends.

But more importantly, had he really been back only a few hours and already almost killed someone? Yeah, coming back to Kansas was _definitely_ a friggin' great idea.


	5. I Never Said I'd Lie In Wait Forever

"…_had he really been back only a few hours and already almost killed someone? Yeah, coming back to Kansas was definitely a friggin' great idea."_

Dean knew he'd never live this down once his parents found out. They already treated him like the boy in the bubble on his good days and if they ever found out about this he'd never get to drive again. Hell, he'd never be able to leave the house again for that matter. Dean suddenly felt panic rise up within him at the prospect of being _grounded_. There was no way he'd be able to handle that. He couldn't even make it five seconds before the place had him blubbering like a girl. That thought did nothing to help him stop the already loud thumping sound of his heartbeat in his ears; pure adrenaline rushing through his veins. His already unsteady breathing had become even more erratic and Dean imagined that this had to be what running a half marathon was like, lungs burning with the effort to fill back up with air after overexerting them far past their limit.

_Just breathe, Dean _his brain supplied. _You remember how to do this._ In. Out. In. Out. As he tried to steady his breathing, Dean tried hard to get himself to just focus and think back to the seriousness of the situation. He thought that he swerved in time, but he wasn't all there so there was really no guarantee that he hadn't tipped the stranger with his fender and sent him flying into a damn ditch_._ The thought worked to quickly sober him up enough to gather his senses and walk to the front of his car to check on the poor bastard who was probably freaking the fuck out about his own near-death experience. Only, he didn't hear moans and groans of pain. Didn't hear someone praying to God that they'd been spared. Dean was even more startled to find that no one was laying there on the road. Why wasn't anyone there?

_Of course no one's in the _front_ of your car you idiot. You swerved remember?_

Oh. Right. Well, that made sense.

As he started to the side of his car to check for what he hoped wasn't his one-way ticket to jail, Dean's smartass mouth couldn't help itself and supplied aloud, "Who the fuck just stands in the _middle of the damn highway at night?_"

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a gravelly voice reply, "The real question is who doesn't keep their eyes on the road in the middle of the night. I wasn't standing in the middle of the highway, actually. Your irresponsibility and inexperience as a driver was what nearly killed me tonight."

Dean was ready to retort that he'd had plenty experience in that car when his brain caught up to his ears and actually processed what he'd just heard. Apparently, he'd nearly killed Tom Waits' little brother because he didn't know _anyone _in Lawrence with a voice like that. He pointedly ignored the voice that said that of course he wouldn't know _because you weren't there._

Dean put a stop to his internal musings and gingerly walked around to the right side of his car towards the sound of that voice. He crept towards the side of the car as if walking slower would ensure that the guy didn't have any broken bones. He finally got close to the guy who was lying sprawled across the pavement, hair a rumpled mess and-huh? Was the guy wearing an overcoat…_in August?_ Yupp, Dean didn't care what this guy said, the nutbrain totally had been standing in the middle of the road. He was wearing an overcoat for fuck's sake. He was liable to do anything.

It made complete sense in his brain at the moment, but Dean knew the guy was probably right. He was nowhere near as vigilant as he should've been on the road; but damn, he couldn't help that the day had drained him of all of his cognitive functions. Actually couldn't help it that he'd somehow turned into a huge mangirl in the last year. _Maybe you should've stayed home then_ the pestering voice in his head supplied. Dean was just about to argue that there was a damn good reason for him being on the road tonight before that voice piped up again to snap him back to reality.

"Are you going to continue on with your negligent behavior and just leave me here or are you going to help me up?"

Dean didn't have time to think about how the hell the guy had sounded so calm when he'd almost died not even ten minutes ago. His eyes flicked down to the guy still supine on the ground and said, "Yeah, yeah sure." Dean kneeled down next to him and proceeded to ask the questions he should've asked five minutes ago. "Did I hit you? Did you break anything? Are you ok, man?"

"No, you didn't hit me, which obviously answers two of your questions, but I'd be better if I weren't lying with my back on cold, hard pavement" came the tight reply. Dean couldn't even blame the guy for being annoyed with him. He really should've been full on angry, what with how long it took Dean to pop his head on straight and focus on the fact that he wasn't the only person on the road. Dean began to help him up and put his hand underneath the guys back. He was about to reach under his right arm to help him up when he lifted his head and was met with the most piercing blue eyes he'd ever seen. Dean couldn't even stop himself from staring if he'd wanted to. The guy was staring right back though with an intensity that rivaled Mary's and Dean began to shift uncomfortably under the weight of it. After a few prolonged moments of silence, Dean was coming dangerously close to waxing poetic about how the guy's eyes reminded him of the clear Mexican waters, but came back to himself enough to cut through the awkward tension with "Sorry I almost killed you." It wasn't exactly the best apology he'd ever come up with, but it was ten times better than the corniness that might've otherwise spilled out of his mouth about those eyes.

"I won't judge your driving skills too badly anymore if you'd actually get me off of the ground and just forget you saw me here. I'd much rather we go our separate ways."

"Wait, what? Dude, I'm not gonna just leave you out here alone. Surviving a near death experience once is pure luck, but I think the universe would be pretty pissed at you walking 'cross a dark highway twice in one night. We need to call the police. Should we call the police? My parents are gonna flip their shit when they find out." Dean was starting to ramble.

"The universe will just have to grin and bear it as I will not be getting into that death trap with you. I'm perfectly capable of making my way to my destination without your help and a call to the authorities is completely unwarranted. So you needn't worry about your parents 'flipping their shit'" came the guy's brusque reply. Dean's brain short-circuited for a moment and the words "death trap" seemed to play on a continuous loop. He physically recoiled at someone calling his car a death trap, but he pressed on.

"Maybe you really can't make it without my help. Look what happened the first time. I mean yeah that was my fault, but still. I wasn't having the best night and my eyes probably went a little to the left, but I'm not a _bad_ driver. I can take you wherever you need me to. It's seriously the least I can do. Promise I ain't gonna kill ya." Dean smiled and gave his best attempt at reassurance. He wanted to at least make sure the guy made it home safely. Dean couldn't really blame him for rejecting his offer again, though.

"I'd much rather continue on my own way if it's all the same to you."

Ok, fine. So blue eyes-and when did he start calling him that- didn't want his help. He'd done his proper Good Samaritan duty and checked to make sure he really hadn't nicked the guy. All of his bones were in tact and he wasn't bleeding from any wounds. Yeah, Dean supposed he could walk away from this one with a clean conscious. He reluctantly gave up the battle because this guy was steadfast and was obviously not gonna change his mind.

"Ok, just…stay on the _side_ of the road will ya? I don't wanna turn on the six o'clock news to see the headline "guy in tan overcoat hit by an 18 wheeler" flashing across the screen."

"I'll take that into consideration." And with that, blue eyes turned stiffly and pointedly walked to the side of the road before he started off into the night.

Dean stood watching his retreating back until he could no longer see his outline in the shadows. The complete strangeness of the situation finally sunk in then. This stranger, whose name he'd regretfully forgotten to ask for, had brushed him off after Dean'd had almost ended him. He was having a hard time believing that the guy didn't want to call the cops just to document it all. He just seemed very intent on no one knowing that he was out there.

He could always follow the guy and try to persuade him again, but something told Dean that he'd probably already taken a back road already anticipating it. He knew that he wasn't gonna will the stranger to turn back around by just standing there, so Dean gathered himself and made his way back to his car. He made sure to promise her that he'd give her extra TLC this weekend to make up for putting her in harm's way.

* * *

Dean was really in no mood to go back home, though and was tempted beyond reason to drive around Lawrence for just a little while longer. He knew it was a seriously bad idea and begrudgingly admitted that he was pushing it by spending any more time than absolutely necessary on the road.

Reason eventually won out and he finally started up his car, turned her around, and took the long drive back to home, sweet home.


	6. Nothing to Lose

**A/N: Sorry that I'm crap at writing long chapters! Please R&R!**

* * *

The week passes much too quickly for Dean's liking. He manages to make it through without slipping up and blabbing about his run in with trench coat guy, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't think about blue eyes whenever he's got a free second to himself. The blur of minutes into hours, hours into days signals the moment when he'll finally have to face high school again. The moment he'll have to face the life he left behind with stoicism because he just knows that absolutely nothing will have stayed the same. The cogs kept turning and life didn't wait for Dean Winchester. The thought hurts more than he'll ever dare to admit to anyone aloud, but he had the stiff upper lip routine down to a science.

Dean is a huge bundle of nerves over the course of it all and his temper flares up to mask how he's been really feeling. The fear of having to dodge questions about where he's been all this time, having to face Lisa, seeing his ex-best friend, facing Jo after what he did to her. It's almost too much to even contemplate experiencing and his head swims with it. His days are filled with it and his nights burdened with the thought of it all.

He gets snappish at Sam more than once as a result for all of the little things that never bothered him before: Sam plays his video games too loud for Dean's liking or leaves the hallway light on after he leaves the bathroom at night. He should feel bad about how he's been treating his little brother and he does because when had he become so petty. Sam never argued back though. He was so different from the Sam he used to know; nothing like the brother who'd fight with him just because it was a Tuesday morning. He'd been stunned to silence that first day back and remained passive through it all because he knew Dean's anger wasn't really directed at him. It wasn't fair to Sam, how Dean was treating him, but Dean was no fan of talking it out and his coping skills were subpar at best.

It was Sam who finally bit the bullet and told Dean exactly how he felt. Dean hadn't even bitten Sam's head off all that day, but it had been brewing within Sam all week. It was early morning when he found his brother sitting on the old familiar brown leather couch in their living room, idly flicking through the channels. Anyone could tell that he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to what was on the screen. Sam decided that now was as good a time as any to have this conversation. He entered the living room and stood right in front of Dean.

"Move, bitch."

"No, I'm not going anywhere Dean, you've been acting like a huge jerk to me lately and I want to know why." Momentarily stunned, Dean finally stood up eye level to Sam with a look that screamed _don't fuck with me right now_. Sam didn't care though. He took the challenge head on and leveled a look at Dean that said that he wasn't going to back down.

"You walk around here half the time acting like I'm not here, not even talking to me and the other half you're bitching me out like I pissed in your Cheerios." Sam tries and fails to keep his voice even. The treatment had really started to eat away at him.

"This is not the time, Sam" Dean warned.

"Make time then" Sam shot back. "You'd better make the time Dean because I'm not gonna walk on eggshells around you. We've only been back a week and you get pissed at me for blinking too hard. What gives?"

"I have _not_ gotten pissed at you" Dean lied.

"Yeah, right. Because calling me an idiot for leaving the light on yesterday was _not getting pissed at me._" Sam really hadn't come here to argue, but Dean didn't seem to respond to anything else.

"Sam" Dean tries.

"NO Dean. This is stupid. I know, dude. I mean I really _know_. I get why you're angry. This hasn't been easy for you and I really get that. I. Was. There. Everyday Dean. I was there with you every day." Sam didn't want to go where this conversation was headed, but he figured if Dean was going to punch him, he might as well go for broke.

"I was _there _when we found out about the tumor. I watched while mom and dad cried when the doctors diagnosed you.I was _there _when they told us we'd have to move to Texas to get treatment. And Dean you know I was there for every single one of 'em. So, I don't get why you can't or won't just talk to me. I may not know exactly what you're going through, but I was there and I'm still here. Making me feel like crap isn't gonna make you feel any better….and it isn't gonna send me away." Sam's voice cracked at the end and Dean could see the moisture pooling in eyes. Sam was fighting hard for them not to fall, but he was losing that battle. Sam had finally elicited a reaction out of Dean, but it was nothing like what he was expecting. He was surprised to see his brother displaying the emotion that he'd kept so carefully hidden within the last year. Two tears ran down Dean's cheeks before he spoke again.

"Sammy. I'm…I'm sorry." Dean really wasn't good at this. Feelings and apologies were not his forte. He pressed on though, because he knew that it was only a matter of time before he wore Sam down to this, this mess. Knew that he had to make it right.

"You _don't_ know why I'm angry and it's nothing you did Sammy. You're still an annoying little brother, but it's not you."

"Then what is it Dean. I know you didn't want to come back to Kansas, but it's home. We all wanted it."

"No, you guys wanted it. No one bothered to really think about what I wanted. No one really cared that I wanted to stay as far away from Lawrence as possible. I'd have been damn happy to stay in Texas."

Sam's ability to see right through Dean's bullshit was evident when he said, "That's a lie and you know it Dean."

"Fine, I'd have been _content._ I'd have made myself content with however life was there. It's like as soon as I got used to the idea of kicking it there, _you guys_ decide that this was better for me. Only it wasn't for me was it? You guys just couldn't handle it anymore." Sam had nothing to say to that point because it was true. It really had become too much for the family to handle. Being so far away from home wasn't easy, especially not when dealing with an ill child. The stress had really taken its toll.

"And you guys didn't even bother with asking _what would Dean want?_ Mom and Dad just told me one day that we were coming back. And I fought 'em Sammy. For months I did until I couldn't anymore. You _know_ that look Mom gets. It broke me and I couldn't help but agree. But dammit I don't want to be here and don't you dare for a minute think that _I _was the one who wanted this. We could've stayed; the doctors were better in Texas anyway." Sam rolled his eyes at that last part. He wasn't stupid and could see Dean's attempt to throw off the real conversation coming from a mile away. This had absolutely nothing to do with doctors. He knew there had to be more of a reason as to why Dean didn't want to come back home. He never even wanted to leave in the first place.

Sam waited. And waited. And waited for the truth. He wasn't going to be the first to crack.

"I don't want people to see me like this Sammy. I don't want Jo to." There it was; the pure, unadulterated truth.

"Dean" Sam started "Jo loves you. Ever since the day you punched Mike Asher in the face for pushing her off of that park swing. You know that. She wouldn't treat you any different. It wouldn't matter to her how you looked Dean. Jo's not like that."

And Dean did know that Jo wasn't like that, but he'd been unfair to her. No word, no phone call, no card. She'd never forgive him. Hell, he hadn't even forgiven himself for it yet. How would she react to seeing him now?

"She doesn't even know" Dean admitted for the first time. He'd made everyone promise not to say a word to anyone about it. He didn't want to burden anyone else with it all. They'd respected his wishes on that front at first, but Mary wouldn't let up about telling Jo. She'd said that he needed someone who he could talk to about it because Dean was guarded when it came to talking to them about anything, least of all this.

Dean had lied. He'd lied to finally get his mom off of his back. Told her that he'd talked to Jo eventually and that she was there for him. They'd all believed it was true and he was always a little surprised at their readiness to believe the lie. Sam was stunned at the revelation initially, but a little relieved on the inside. He wasn't the only one being left on the sidelines here. He could feel a tiny bit guilty about the thought later.

"She doesn't know? But…why? You tell Jo everything," Sam finally said.

"I didn't tell her because I was afraid at first. I didn't know what endgame would be with this and I just didn't want to put her through that. Then, I was just ashamed. Mom kept telling me to call her and I wanted to. So damn bad. But I knew that she'd find a way to take the first flight out there and I didn't want her to see me how I was. You know how it got on the really bad days. She'd have to watch me clutching the toilet half the time, laid up in bed the rest. I didn't want that." Saying it out loud to anyone for the first time made his argument feel weak though. It wasn't a good enough reason to shut out his best friend in the world.

"And that's why you've been acting like that? Taking it out on me because you don't want to face her?"

"I didn't realize I was doin' it, Sammy. Not at first at least. Then, it just became easier to be mad at you than to think about how much she'd hate me for just leaving."

Sam had to take a moment to be surprised at the fact that he knew Jo better than Dean did at that moment because he wasn't giving her nearly enough credit. "Jo won't hate you when you tell her what you told me. She deserves to know so just please do it Dean. It'll be better when you tell her everything."

Sam walked over to his brother and gave him a hug. He knew Dean wasn't much for moments like this, but he'd finally, finally let it all out. It was hug-worthy and Dean'd just have to deal. After what seemed to stretch on for eternity, they broke apart and Sam went back up the stairs and into his room. He didn't chance a glance at his brother still standing stock still in the middle of the living room. No doubt wondering if he really was going to try to fix things with Jo.


	7. You Taught Me To Regret

**A/N:** **You guys, thanks so much for the favs, follows and reviews! You're great!**

**Update****: This chapter seriously was not intended to be so sad. Really! I'd planned for some light fluff and then Anna came along and said nope, not gonna happen. So, I will try to un-break your hearts here soon. Next chapter probably won't be up until next week because I'll be at ChiCon! I'm super nervous and also excited. I can't wait to see Misha though!**

* * *

Routines were something that Mary was determined to get her boys back into. She'd started up their annual Sunday dinner with John's favorite tomato gravy meatloaf and no less than two homemade apple pies for Dean. She'd made them say grace before every meal just like they used to, made them do house chores without fail, and she even forced bedtimes upon them like they were still the little kids she wanted them to be-young and carefree. It should've come as no surprise that Mary had wanted to keep up the family routine of buying new clothes for the boys before the new school year. It was absolutely necessary in Sam's case, what with him growing a whole foot over the last year, but there was absolutely no reason that Dean had to be dragged down there with them too. Dean and shopping malls would never, ever get along and Mary knew that he was perfectly fine wearing the same blue jeans, threadbare band tees, and flannels that he always wore. Any attempts to get him into anything otherwise had epically failed. Even though he desperately did not want to go into town, he didn't fight it. Dean knew that his mom really wanted things to be as normal as possible for him. Sometimes he begrudged her ability to seemingly live in the guise of normalcy when he himself couldn't even see beyond how fucked up the last year had really been.

She'd made them all get up at the ass crack of dawn to get themselves ready and make sure their daily chores were done because she wanted to get to the malls early. Being gone for a whole year didn't make her forget that the weekend before the school year started was complete chaos; almost like a mini-black Friday. John somehow managed to get out of going and Dean shuddered to even _think_ about all the possible ways he made that happen.

If Dean had any confusion about whether or not Mary was easing up on her overprotective mother hen gig, he was quickly reminded of the fact when he headed over to open the Impala's-no _his_ Impala's driver's side door. Family car or not they all knew it was going to be his one day. As he reached for the car handle, he bumped hands with Mary, who had been aiming to drive the boys to the mall for their trip. The both stood there looking at each other for a moment before Dean grumbled something to the effect of not being a baby and slid into the back seat with a smirking Sam. It was _not_ at all funny that mom wouldn't let him drive the car. He didn't really see the big deal since she'd let him drive it only a few nights before.

Dean had been hoping that they'd get to take the scenic route into town. There were so many places that he still hadn't gotten the chance to see again since they've been back in town. Ever since that first disastrous night where he'd tried to clear his head, Dean hadn't made a second attempt to venture out into Lawrence. They'd all had some sort of unspoken agreement to not go out until they could do so as a family unit-solidarity or something. Dean supposed it made sense. They wouldn't get backed into a corner by their neighbors about their whereabouts if it were more than one of them out. No one had even discussed what they would tell the townsfolk who no doubt had questions a mile long about where they'd been for the past year without so much as a postcard.

Dean shook off the those thoughts to just soak up the scenery, arm hanging out of the left passenger window and head laid back breathing in the fresh air. He couldn't even form the words to express how much he missed days like this. Days spent taking River Road to their old picnic spot. It brings back memories of diagonally cut sandwiches and fresh squeezed lemonade. Of childhood and innocence. The hum of the engine as they drive down the smooth roads into town lull Dean to sleep shortly after they hit the road. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night because he sat up all night thinking about his conversation with Sam. It'd emotionally drained him and sleep didn't come until about an hour before dawn.

Mary dragged Dean into every store along the strip mall attempting to get him to pick out nicer shirts, jeans that did not have holes in them, or maybe even a pair of "normal" shoes. Dean would just roll his eyes at every suggestion and pointedly walk to the other side of the store. He knew she'd get whatever she wanted for him to wear anyway. Despite completely loathing the shopping aspect of the day, Dean did enjoy spending time with his family.

The day seemed to be going pretty well for him. That is until he saw it. They were just leaving the JC Penney when Dean saw a tall woman with a shock of red hair turn the corner. He knew deep down that it wasn't her, could never be her. But his feet started moving of their own volition all the same. His pace quickened with the attempt to catch up with the girl. What he'd do when he reached her he had no idea, but he just needed to see that it wasn't her. Needed the confirmation that he knew he truly didn't need.

He remembers her like she'd just climbed out of his bed the morning before, like they'd just finished swapping stories and were listening to music contentedly on his iPod. It's been seven months and he still can't shake the memory of her. Can't quite accept that she's not coming back.

_-Flashback_-

_Anna had been the first friend he'd made at MD. He'd only been there a few days before she came to his room like his own personal welcoming party. _

"_Knock. Knock. Can I come in?" She'd asked as she stood waiting for an invitation outside of his room. _

_Dean hadn't looked up at the time and assumed that she was another nurse trying to ease him into his transition into patient care._

"_I thought you weren't comin' back for at least an hour," he grunted. Still not attempting to look up at his supposed nurse. _

"_Sorry, definitely not a nurse. They don't pay me to be here unfortunately. You think they would with how much time I spend here." At that, Dean finally looked up to be bombarded with the most beautiful red hair that he'd ever seen. It wasn't long, but he suspected that it had been once. Long enough to run his fingers through for hours. It was cropped close to her head, almost as if it'd just grown back in. _

_Dean must've looked like a complete idiot standing next to his bed, one hand stuck in his bag, and mouth hanging open wide enough to catch flies. The girl was gracious enough not to call him on it directly though, for which he'd be eternally, very grateful. _

"_You're _obviously _new here, especially if you have never seen yours truly before. I'm Anna. Anna Milton." She holds out her hand, waiting for him to snap out of his reverie and shake it. _

"_And I'm…. not usually so"_

"_Catonic, stupefied, dazed?" She finishes helpfully with a grin that could light up a neighborhood in a power outage. _

"_Yeah, yeah that. I'm Dean Winchester."_

"_Winchester? Like the rifle?" _

_Dean rolls his eyes at that because he's heard it a million times, but he's smiling too. Smiling for the first time in what seems like weeks. _

"_Can't even begin to tell ya how many times I've heard that. But yeah, like the rifle. Was it really that obvious that I'm new here?" He questions. _

"_Nah, not really. I've just been here long enough to know everybody like the back of my hand, the newbies, the lifers. But, your reggies kind of gave you away."_

"_Reggies?"_

"_Yeah, you know like your regular clothes. No one else besides families wears regular clothes in here and like I said, I know everyone including their families. You had to be new. So, I being the unofficial official welcoming committee, decided that I'd give you the grand tour of the place. Help you get situated." _

"_That's…nice of you?" _

"_Of course it is. Now come on." Anna strides across the room and hooks her arm under Dean's and together they make their way around the hospital. _

_She shows him everything from where they get their chemo treatments to where they keep the warmest sheets when the cold's too much to bear at night. Dean completely forgets about meeting his nurse that day. He's sure it can wait. _

_The pair become inseparable after that and tell each other mostly everything. Anna tells him how she was diagnosed with chronic Leukemia two weeks before her ninth birthday, of how her parents' marriage fell apart with the stress of dealing with seeing their child so sick, struggling to find a way to pay for the much-needed treatments. She even tells him that she thinks they've given up on her after so many years of false hope and failed attempts to fix her. Dean comforts her and reassures her with all of the certainty that he can muster that it's not the truth. He knows she doesn't believe him, but she pretends well enough anyway. _

_Dean's a little more hesitant to open up to Anna at first. She doesn't mind though. She loves that he's there on the bad nights and doesn't say a word when she creeps into his room and into his bed. He listens to her when she needs it and it's good. _

_Over the course of the next few months they learn a lot about one another. Dean makes sure to teach her about what he considers the best music and tries hard to slice the parasite that is K$sha out of his friend's body. It works enough that when he sings Hey, Jude to her when she sneaks into his bed at night she doesn't complain. It doesn't take long after the start of nights like this to realize that they could never be any more than recently separated Siamese twins. He begins to love her with the same fierceness that he feels for Sammy and just knows that she's the sister he never had, the good thing to come out of it all. He's grateful for the one concession. He finally tells her about Luke and Lisa, tells her about his freaky nerd little brother, then eventually, Jo too. And just like he did for her in the quiet of room 308, she listens. Listens when he says that she and Jo would have liked each other because they had the same personality, that they'd been friends longer than he could remember, that some days he had to stop himself from calling Anna the wrong name because he missed Jo like a phantom limb._

* * *

_Dean had wanted Anna to meet his family for months. He'd already met her mom and dad on separate occasions, so it was only fair that she got to meet his. Yet somehow, in the five months that Dean is there it never works out. Anna's always in treatment when they come or she doesn't show up because she got it in her head that she shouldn't intrude on Dean's family time. He never got a chance to tell her that she was his family now too. _

_They never talked in depth about their illnesses. She finds out that Dean has __Ependymoma when she finds him late at night huddled under his sheets, sniffling softly. It was so unlike her friend and she knew that it wasn't good news. He'd been gone for most of the day last week receiving a battery of tests so that the doctors could finally know what they were dealing with and was supposed to get his results back in today. Anna closes the door and slips into bed beside him and holds him close. She doesn't say a word, not even when the words come spilling from his throat. "_You should've seen their faces when they told my parents Anna" or "I'm not sure that I can do this._ She hugs him a little tighter at that, just hard enough to let him know that yes, he _could_ do it. _

_The two become so wrapped up in their world that they sometimes forget themselves. Forget where they are, who they are, what they're dealing with. Dean finds out how dangerous it is to forget, to let the walls down too much and relish the here and now. It's dangerous because it makes the future seem like a far away prospect and not the thing that always hangs heavy above them. When that distant future catches up with them it hits Dean like a slap in the face. He __finds himself wishing with more energy than he's got in him and prays to a God he's not so sure exists that he's going to walk up to the reception desk and they're going to say that Anna was just receiving her chemo. He doesn't though. His family had come on a Thursday to visit him and he was determined to get them to finally meet his Anna. He went to her room, but found her bed empty. Checked all of her usual haunting spots, but still didn't spot her there. He refused to even acknowledge the very real possibility of what had happened to her._

_He doesn't ask about her and the doctors don't tell. All Dean knows is that the new patients don't get a world class welcome from the unofficial, official welcoming committee. _

___-End Flashback_-

By the time he makes it around the corner the redhead is gone. It's just as well though. It'd have been a little hard to explain to the freaked out girl that she reminded him of his dead friend. Neither Sam nor Mary choose to acknowledge what they'd just witnessed and their shopping trip continues on without another incident.

That night though, Dean sings Hey, Jude for Anna. He sings it and hopes that she can hear it.


	8. Anything Can Happen

**A/N:So I lied and here's another chapter. Your reviews are awesome! Thanks to darkphoenix2345, mhmellie, and My Dead Love for reviewing! If you're reading this, let me know what you think! Reviews are like inspiration shots straight into my veins guys, really.**

* * *

Whoever decided that school should start at such an ungodly hour obviously has no soul.

Dean may be exaggerating a bit on that front, but when his alarm clock goes off at five-thirty he decides that they really do have no soul and that he'd rather be homeschooled. He slaps his hand down on the alarm to stop the screeching in his ears and is gearing up his argument for why going back to public school is a terrible idea. His half-cocked reasons dissipate quickly though as he slips back into a light sleep. Dean's getting halfway into a dream where he's being chased around the planet by his dream world's elite cheeseburger army when they stop running after him and start screaming to the top of their lungs. It takes him way too long to realize that it's the damn alarm again.

Dean snoozes two more times before Sam comes into his room to stop the alarm once and for all and yanks the covers off and throws them to the floor. Sam really wanted to throw the alarm against the wall, but more noise wasn't his goal. Dean clumsily reaches for his blanket and grumbles something the lines of _stupid little bitch_ when he finds that it's not on his bed. Sam runs off into the bathroom just before Dean's able to grab at him and punch him who knows where because he wasn't willing to risk a sleepy punch to his balls on the first day of school.

Dean's so seriously not used to being forced up so early in the morning anymore and it shows. It takes him a whole ten minutes to move from his sitting position on the bed. He'd never actually fallen asleep sitting up before but he kind of figured that there was a first time for everything.

He gets up eventually and falls quickly into the morning ritual after that. He stumbles groggily into the bathroom, brushes his teeth, then uses the toilet(because he has a weird thing about peeing and brushing after), then staggering into the kitchen for whatever Mary's cooked up for breakfast. He figured he should keep her a long time ago when he realized that he'd never be short on eggs and bacon.

"You're late sleepy head." She throws over her shoulder as she plates two of _the _fluffiest pancakes in existence.

"'M not late. You guys are just freaks of nature who don't know how to sleep in." He mumbles through a yawn as he crosses the kitchen to grab his plate. Mary tries to slap him with her side towel, but he was always too quick for her.

"Yeah, well freaks or no, you still have the Winchester name. You're a freak by association." She shoots back through a laugh. That's what Dean's always loved about his mom. She was never a stick in the mud unlike other kids' parents. She got his sense of humor and gave as good as she got.

"Touché mom. Touché.

He realizes she wasn't lying when she said that he was running late. Sam's already dressed and waiting in the living room reading a book. He's reading a friggin' book and they haven't even made it to school yet. His little brother was such a giant nerd. He rolls his eyes and heads back up the stairs to get dressed so they can get the show on the road. No time like the present to get ogled, drilled with questions, and gossiped about. He opens his closet to see that Mary had put the clothes she bought him to the front as if being in the front of his closet could wash away the stamp that says _guys who enjoy getting their asses kicked wear me._ He might as well slick back his hair and get a side part. He brushes those atrocities to the side in favor of his usual get up, only he chooses his slightly less worn out jeans. His "don't fix it if it ain't broke" philosophy will always, always apply to his wardrobe. He knew what he looked good in and button downs and slacks were _not_ it. He spikes his hair with as little manipulation and in as little time as possible. He wasn't really trying to impress anyone anyway.

He catches a glance at the clock and sees that it's already 7:20. They've got a good twenty minutes before school lets in, but he's already positive they're going to be late. Lawrence High is on the other side of town and though Dean isn't a terrible driver, he still wants to play it safe on the road for a while.

If Dean wanted to play it safe, Mary wanted to put in him a bubble and never let him do anything deemed too dangerous. He doesn't even know why he thought that her stunt with the car yesterday was a one off because before he goes to bed the night before school she makes a point of telling him that she'll bring them to school in the morning. There was no way. There was just no friggin' way that his mom would drop him off at school on the first day like he'd just started pre-school. There'd be enough eyes on him without people snickering behind his back and calling him a big baby. His pleas to let him just take the car already fell on deaf ears before John came down the stairs to see what all the commotion was about. Dean finally let his dad in on how his mom wouldn't let him drive to school himself and expected a united front against the only woman in the house. His dad's reaction though felt like the ultimate act of betrayal.

"I can see why Mary doesn't want you to take the car, Dean. We really don't need anything happening to you out there."

Dean just stared wide eyed, mouth slightly parted as his dad actually takes his mom's side."Dad come on! She doesn't even-"

He's cut off when John continues, "But, Mary you can't smother the boy. He's gonna need to go places and you're not always gonna be able to get him there. And I know he doesn't want to be seen having his mom drive him to school."

The sting of betrayal wore off as quickly as it'd come and Dean mentally whooped at his dad because even though he was still being a tad bit overprotective, he sometimes just got it. _He_ wasn't trying to ruin what little dignity Dean had left.

Dean was nowhere near stupid enough to think that the argument would end there because his mom could argue herself out of a brown paper bag, but Mary gives up a lot sooner than he'd expected. He doesn't know if telling her that he _deserves_ to have this one thing his senior year is what does it or if he and John ganging up on her does the trick, but whatever the reason, she finally relents and agrees to let him drive to school in the morning.

* * *

He doesn't tell Sammy to get a move on, but rather smacks him on the back of the head before he bounds out of the door and slams it closed. Sam pulls his nose out of book quick enough to get a quick kiss and a "have a good day boys" from Mary before he's sprinting out of the door after Dean. They drive in a silence for a good five minutes before Sam cracks with the bone-deep need to pester Dean. He can't ever leave well enough alone it seemed.

"Are you ready for this?" He asks with his eyes facing the road. He notices Dean swallow in his periphery and is half expecting to be ignored when Dean answers back.

"Pretty sure high school's still high school. So yeah, ready as I'll ever be."

Sam figures it's as honest an answer that he's going to get at 7:30 in the morning and they fall back into a comfortable silence.

Surprisingly they aren't extremely late to school. By the time they make it into the parking lot, all of the students have disappeared into the building. Dean's grateful that they didn't get there with everyone else because he was in no mood to be on display for five hundred plus school kids. Although, it would've been pretty badass to pull up on the first day in his baby for everyone to see. He climbs out of the car and hunches his empty bag onto his shoulders and is followed into the school by Sam.

When he steps into the entrance hall to Lawrence High he notices that the walls have finally been repainted with a fresh coat of red paint and the classrooms in his view have gotten doors that actually have little windows. He'd always complained about feeling like he was in solitary confinement when he went to class. He supposes that enough parents complained so that something finally got done about it.

He heads over to the main office to pick up his and Sam's class schedules and see's Mrs. Mitchell sitting at the front desk. John had always joked that she'd be there when he and Sam finally had kids old enough to go to the school, but Dean isn't even going to touch the morbid reality of John's words.

The old woman notices that there's someone standing there right away, but doesn't look up from whatever she's typing away on the computer. Dean has to not-so-subtly cough to finally make her pay attention to them standing there after a minute passes and she still doesn't move an inch.

"Ummm, Mrs. Mitchell?" Sam tries.

"One minute." She replies

"Mrs. Mitchell?" Dean repeats. It seems to have done the trick because her head shoots up at the sound of his voice.

Dean definitely doesn't find the woman's speechlessness to at all unnerving. It doesn't at all further prove that people really did think they'd fallen off the face of the earth. It's starting to get a little weird being ogled by an old lady, but then she finally, _finally_ says, "Dean? Dean Winchester?" She seems almost stunned to see him standing in the office.

"Last time I checked."

"I'd heard that your family was back in town, didn't quite believe it though." She says.

She still hasn't finished giving him the once over the though. Every so often her eyes flicker down his body. Dean's 95% sure that it's not all pervy, but probably just her sizing him up to see how much he'd grown since she saw him last. When she finally notices the huge moose standing next to Dean her eyes get even bigger.

"There's just no way that that's little Sammy Winchester standin' over there." She actually moves from behind her desk to turn Sam around a bit to get a better look at him. "Well, well. You boys sure have grown up. I remember when Sam was only yea high." She maneuvers her hands near her waist to show where Sam's height was a year ago. She's exaggerating yes, but Sam's growth spurt made people think he was the monster that actually ate Sam Winchester.

They stare at each other for a little while longer after she's done all but pinching their cheeks before she finally realizes what the boy's must be there for.

"Ummm, yes you're here for your schedules. Let me get them printed out for you." She prints their schedules out in two seconds flat and hurries over to the printer to gather them up.

"Ok boys, here are your schedules. Dean you're in Mr. Parsons' homeroom and Sam you're in Ms. Corville's. You two already know where the rooms are, so hurry up! Just because you're in here doesn't mean they're going to cut you any slack today. So shoo, shoo!" She all but pushes the boys out of the office and into the hallway.

* * *

The boys stand in the hallway and stare for a moment like they're about to head off to war and won't see each other again. Dean breaks the silence this time.

"Alright Sammy, I'll see you at lunch."

"Yeah, maybe. I might find someone cooler than my dopey brother to hang out with today."

"You wish, bitch. No one's cooler than this." Dean motions to all of his body and swivels his hips a bit in a joking manner.

"Annnnnd there goes the ego. I knew this school would bring it right outta ya. Well, I'm going to head off. I'll look for you around twelve."

"Cool, Sammy."

"_Please_, don't call me Sammy around here. I'm trying not to get beat up my first year."

"I make no promises." Dean replies and walks off to find Room 216.

Mr. Parsons' must be a new teacher because Dean never remembers seeing him around when he was in lower grades. Though, that could be because he never paid much attention to anything when he was in school, especially not teachers. He gets a case of nerves before he reaches the room because he just knows that everyone's going to be staring at him like he has a huge boob in the middle of his chest. It's going to suck and he doesn't feel like doing it. He definitely should've worked on his whole homeschooling argument when he was in the bathroom this morning. He opens the door and just as he expected, all heads snap up to stare at him. It's not the usual _oh, it's a new kid stare_, but more like a _holy fucking hell, it's Dean Winchester_ stare. The teacher leaves his desk from where he was probably taking the roll and walks over to meet Dean where he's stood frozen by the door.

"Can I help you?" He says.

" Help me?"

"You walked into my room, so I'm guessing yeah you need me for something."

"Oh, oh yeah. Umm, right. I'm think this is my homeroom, if you're Mr. Parsons." _Great_ he thinks, _I'm already making an idiot out of himself._

"Ok, let me see your schedule." He asks and Dean hands it over.

Mr. Parsons gives it a once over before handing it back and responding with "Right then, you're definitely in the right place. Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?"

"No" Dean mumbles, "I'm pretty sure they know who I am.

The teacher gives him a strange look at that. Probably in a way that says_ well I've never seen you before, but ok._ Oh yeah, Dean thinks. He's most definitely new.

"Ok, then. You take any one of the empty seats towards the back of the room."

Dean shuffles pass his former classmates, avoiding any and all eye contact and takes the seat to the far left of the room near a window. He keeps his head down because he thinks that they'll see and know everything if they get one glance into his eyes.

It seems like he's only been in the room for a minute before the bell for first period is ringing and people are spilling out into the hallways. He holds back for a second because he's not in the mood to deal with the hustle and bustle and he knows that he can't do the crowds. Mom had already warned him against it the night before.

He's beyond annoyed that his first class of the day is Calculus. It's one of those subjects that teachers can't even lie and say will be practically useful in the real world. He'd be much more content with six periods of auto shop. He once again manages to get a seat in the back of the room and pretty much falls asleep when the teacher starts rambling on about functions.

Periods two and three fly by in a blur of _watch the presidential debate tonight for homework_ and _make sure to bring in your favorite song lyrics for analysis tomorrow_. He's practically sprinting across the campus to make it to fourth period because someone thought that it'd be a good idea to put his arts elective on the complete other side of school, but he makes it in on time with a few seconds to spare. He's not in luck this time because there are no seats in the back and he has to sit at a table in the second row. He grumbles because he abso-fuckin-lutely hates being that close to the teacher, but then the voice in his head is screaming _danger Will Robinson! _when he sees who's sitting at the only free table. It's not even fair. It's so far beyond fair that Dean wants to jump out of the nearest window. There, sitting as oblivious to his arrival as ever is Jo, _his _Jo. He stops dead in his tracks for a moment contemplating what he should do. If he leaves the class, he'll be in trouble the first day, but if he stays and actually sits there he may lose an eye. Option one seems like the more favorable option and he turns and leaves the room before the teacher can manage to stop him.

He doesn't know where he's going, but finds out soon enough when the hall monitor spots him ten minutes into his grand escape plan.

"What are you doing out of class, mister?" The surly woman questions him.

"I was trying to find my class, but I know where it is now. I'm new to this school so it took me awhile to find it" He lies.

"New? You sure look awful familiar to me."

"Can't see how. Gotta be mistaken ma'am" He smiles brightly hoping that she'll believe him and send him on his way.

She seems to buy his story well enough and shuffles him down the hall to where he said his class was. It's perfect because she leads him into the hall where they always kept the back door unlocked. He makes sure the coast is clear before he eases open the door and sneaks out to his old hang out on the roof of the school. He climbs the old rusted ladder and throws the bag hanging off of his arm up first before hopping onto the landing.

The roof had always been his favorite place to be because no one else was bold enough to come up here and he could always count on it being a nice quiet refuge from the noise and all the other crap he had to deal with. He was expecting more of the same, but what he got was even more surprising than seeing Jo in Art class. There, standing near the edge of the rooftop was blue eyes. Blue eyes that he'd nearly killed was at _his_ school, on _his _rooftop, standing not ten feet away from him. Dean had obviously startled him out of whatever he was thinking about because he was looking over at Dean, eyes squinted and head tilted like Dean was the Sphinx and he had to decipher his riddle right then and there.

"You" Dean finally says to cut through the tension. He shuffles a bit closer from the edge when the guys speaks up.

"Me indeed." He responds.

"You're the guy, the guy from last weekend. I thought I'd never see you again. I still wanted to say sorry again for ya know, almost killing you and all.

"I remember telling you that I'd rather forget that that had ever happened. I aim to honor that."

_What is with this guy _Dean wonders before he opens his mouth to ask what he's wanted to know for the last five minutes.

"Dude, why are you even here on the roof?"

"You're asking me that question as you stand on said roof right with me?"

Well, the guy had a point.

"Yeah, got me there man" Dean says. The guy doesn't respond back though. He doesn't even make an attempt at small talk and Dean wonders if he even knows what it is.

After standing in silence for what seems like ages, Dean finally walks up and stands shoulder to shoulder with him. He stares out to the horizon and remembers exactly why he loved this spot so much.

"I used to come here all the time ya know."

Still nothing.

"Whenever I needed time to think or honestly if I wanted to skip class, I'd come up here. I'm dunno know why, but just sittin here watching the fields calms me somehow. Nothin' works quite like it for me that's for sure." He doesn't really understand why he's telling this guy anything, but he sees something spark in the guy's eyes at that, like he completely understands that no place else has a view to rival this one. That it really is the perfect spot.

Dean's curiosity is still piqued though and no amount of comfortable silence is going to make the question niggling in the back of his brain go away. He strangely figures that they've gained some sort of camaraderie since they've been up there and asks him again what he wants to know.

"Are you ever gonna answer my question?"

The guy finally turns his head at that.

"Why_ are_ you up here?" Dean asks expectantly, like the guy has been so forthcoming up until now.

Dean doesn't get an answer to his question, but what he does get is blue eyes getting even closer to him. It's clear that no one told this guy about Proper Guy Behavior 101 because he gets right up in his personal space. Dean doesn't shy away though. Doesn't flinch when he can feel blue eyes' breath so close to his own skin or stumble slightly when he finally says, "No, no I'm not" and walks to the edge of the roof and climbs down. Dean's stunned stupid for a moment before he realizes that he still hasn't gotten the guy's name.

* * *

Dean figures that missing an entire half-day of classes is going to be a little bit too noticeable, so after he and Sammy meet up for lunch (he hasn't met anyone yet, btw), he begrudgingly goes to his Biology II class. When he makes it through the door and catches sight of that trench coat out of the corner of his eye, he decides that maybe Biology won't be so bad after all.


	9. Never Too Late

**A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long guys. ChiCon and GISHWHES consumed my life for a little bit, but here it is. **

**P.S. Reviews are still love.**

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Biology is probably the most boring thing Dean's ever been subjected to and that's really saying something considering the excruciating hour he spent in Calculus. But he was a man on a mission. A man with a plan to finally get to know this guy who'd crossed his paths one to many times to be brushed into anonymity.

Dean did not, on general principle, sit in the front of the classroom. He'd found perfectly comfortable chairs in the back of every class he'd gone to that day and was well and content with doing the same in this class as well. But the moment he realized that the trench coated stranger was in the same class as him, he couldn't resist the opportunity to throw out a page in _Dean Winchester's Guide to Getting By Unnoticed _and move as close to the guy as possible without seeming like a 12 year old girl trying to get close to her first crush. It's a task easier said than done, however, when he trips over some idiot's backpack in the middle of the aisle. And in classic Dean Winchester style, he had to tell the guy something about it.

"Try putting your bag under your desk next time. You could've killed me!" Dean says to the guy in question in a bid to save some shred of his dignity. But this guy isn't easily intimidated, obviously and just looks Dean straight in the eye.

"Or, you could've watched where the hell you were going, dude" the guy replies back and Dean has to restrain himself from seriously getting in the guy's face because even he can recognize when he's over exaggerating. He glares at the guy for what feels like forever until he decides to finally take his seat.

As embarrassing as almost becoming the laughing stock of his year on the first day of school is, he's spared a fraction of his dignity though when blue eyes fails to turn around to even acknowledge the commotion at the back of the room.

Of course, that fraction is yanked right from under him when Mr. Duncan calls him out for getting out of his seat. As soon as he'd gotten his bearings and made it to an open seat, he was met with a bitchface that could've rivaled Sammy's with the right crinkle of his nose. Mr. Duncan was none too pleased about Dean interrupting class when it hadn't even started yet.

He's starting to think that he's gotten off easy with what he's heard about Duncan in the past, but his relief is short-lived when he brings the attention right back to Dean again. "There are five rules in my class. Every single one of them requires you to be in your seat at all times when the first bell rings until the last bell. Think you can handle that, son? If not, you can make your way over to Mr. Hendrickson's office."

Dean scowled in his asshat of a teacher's general direction. He didn't like being condescended to and the teacher didn't have to call him out just for moving seats on the first damn day and _accidentally_ tripping, but he could still feel his cheeks flushing red and his neck getting hot. Embarrassment was not in the book, not in the cards or the plan and he was already gearing up for a witty retort that'd probably get him kicked the hell out when he remembered that he was already on thin ice for skipping Art class earlier. Any misconception that he'd actually gotten away with that one were shattered when he heard _Dean Winchester to the principal's office_ over the school's PA system.

Principal Hendrickson had told Dean in no uncertain terms that he wasn't gonna receive any special treatment-and damn it all for his parents actually having to tell the freaking principal- and if he couldn't follow the school rules that West Jefferson High still had spots open a few miles down the road. Dean knew that giving his parents hell when they hadn't even gotten properly settled back in Lawrence was a dick move and so he'd solemnly promised that he wouldn't be seen in the office for the rest of the year. Breaking that promise not a whole 20 minutes later would definitely put him on the man's shit list for the rest of the year and he really wasn't willing to risk it. So, he decided to play it cool and plaster on his best shit-eating grin to let this teacher know that he didn't embarrass easily-true or not.

"You know Mr. Duncan, I was told to stick with the things that don't require me to think too hard, but for you" he winks and watches Mr. Duncan's eyes narrow in barely contained contempt "I'll make an exception, sir." He mock salutes and takes his seat a few seats behind the still nameless stranger.

Mr. Duncan stops staring Dean down in favor of actually taking the roll so he can hand out the syllabus and generally bore a class of 17 year olds to the brink. And Dean's so ridiculously caught up in staring at the back of blue eyes' head as if the laser like focus would force his head to turn that he nearly tumbles over (again) when the guy in question answers in that deep gravelly voice of his to one Castiel Novak.

Dean's surprised. A little. No, ok a lot because Castiel? Really, Castiel? It's an odd name and not normal by any stretch of the imagination and Dean's immediately disappointed by the fact that he finally knows the guy's name. He doesn't like it. He really, really doesn't like it and he's so caught up in his musings about whether or not the name even suits Castiel at all that he gets in Mr. Duncan's crosshairs once again when he doesn't answer the roll.

"Winchester, Dean. Winchester, Dean? Is there a Dean Winchester in senior Biology who wishes to get marked present on today, the first day of school?"

"Umm, yeah, I'm here. Dean Winchester" He says.

"So nice of you to join the land of consciousness Mr. Winchester" Duncan replies. And damn if Dean isn't gonna have to suck up to this guy or get tutoring or something if he's gonna pass because the guy hates him already if the way he says _Mr. Winchester_ is anything to go by.

Dean doesn't respond back because he just knows that he wouldn't hold his tongue at Duncan's next snarky reply and would really get kicked out for calling a teacher a flaming bag of dicks.

* * *

Dean was starting to think that royally embarrassing himself just to get a closer stalking spot was not at all worth it, but he was made to eat his words a little later in the week when he was grouped with Castiel to complete the textbook assignment that the class was given. It's just his luck that he gets put in a group of two other people who seem to have some sort of embargo on talking. Five minutes in and the awkward _who's gonna talk first _staring is already making him want to bang his head, ill-advisedly, against the table.

"So, what pages are we supposed to be working on?" Dean asks to try to break the ice.

"I think Mr. Duncan said one of them was page 12, but I'm not so sure about the rest. I'll go ask if he could write it on the board." The girl-Alanna-says before practically skipping off to the teacher's desk. Leaving Dean and Castiel alone at their table.

"So, Cas—" Dean starts, but stops short when Castiel tilts his head at him like a confused baby bird, silently questioning the use of the nickname.

Dean realizes his mistake and quickly moves to correct it. "Oh, umm sorry if you'd rather me call you Castiel I guess I can, but dude it really is a mouthful. Cas just…works."

The guys lips quirk to the side a bit as if he's strongly considering the name and then finally he says, "You can call me Cas, if it pleases you Dean."

"Right, ok. Yeah, so how good are you in Biology?" He asks still trying to break that stubborn ice that Cas is not helping to nick in the slightest. "I really suck at any type of Science."

"My skill at understanding complex scientific concepts is adequate, although I doubt that you _suck at Science_" he says and Dean can virtually hear him using the invisible air quotes.

"Yeah, well get grouped with me a little more and we'll see if you're singing the same tune."

That's when Alanna chooses to come back to the table with the assigned page numbers and with the direction to 'tell Dean Winchester to pay better attention to my instructions.'

Yupp, it's official, the guy hates him.

Once they get to work, it becomes clear that Cas was seriously understating his knowledge of Biology. Dean was finding it hard to even keep up when he started going on about Prokaryotic and Eukaryotic cells and the origin of life and he didn't even feel offended when Cas told him that a baby could understand such a simple concept. Fine, he was worse than a baby. He could admit that like a man, but Cas was seriously gonna have to stop spouting off information like a robot.

"Ya gotta slow down if you expect me to keep up and help with this work man. I don't want you doing it yourself, but you seriously lost me like 10 minutes ago."

"Dean, Alanna and I can do the assignment on our own. You can just do the drawings if the activity suits you better."

"No way man! I can pull my own weight; I just need a little extra help is all. Or I could do the easy questions or something."

Cas and Alanna shared a look and then Cas relents and gives Dean some of the easier questions to work on. He had to go back into the chapter a few times unlike his two partners, but he was still contributing.

He's so caught up in the work that he'd almost forgotten that the whole reason he'd moved to the front of the room was to get a better look at Cas. Almost. If Cas weren't completely awkward and oblivious Dean would've thought that he'd been teasing him. His thigh kept brushing against Dean's in what were the most agonizing movements of his life. It took all of his strength to not so subtly slide his hand under the table and grab hold of that thigh. He'd never gotten so worked up over such simple touches before, but the way Cas' hand would graze his when he turned a page was driving Dean crazy, sending tiny sparks down his spine and making his jeans uncomfortably tight. He shifts in his chair a bit to get some distance because this could easily turn into the most embarrassing moment of his life.

"Is something wrong Dean? Your face is looking flushed. Should I alert Mr. Duncan?" Cas asks when he notices Dean's odd movements.

"No! God, No! It's just a little warm in here. No worries." He knows it's a blatant lie even as it leaves his mouth and Alanna's "Dean, it's practically freezing in here" does nothing to help the situation.

He goes for a simple explanation because he's starting to dig a seriously deep hole here and as per usual no one's buying it. "Yeah, well I'm weird I guess" he says and hopes that it ends this conversation right then. Alanna looks him over for a second and then shrugs and heads back to her work. It takes a minute for Cas to stop staring though. Like he's trying to see past Dean's bullshit to see the heart of him, to see what's making him tick right then. Dean's secretly hoping so hard that Cas really can't see it all written all over his face because that would make the next few months incredibly awkward. Whatever he's searching for though he doesn't find or just doesn't care to keep looking because he eventually turns his focus back to his textbook without a word.

Dean's luckily off the hook, but he's pretty sure that Biology is really gonna be the death of him though when Cas leans over the desk to grab Alanna's portion of the work and Dean gets a glimpse of the smoothest, milky white skin that he's ever seen. Not even Lisa could compare and he's so tempted to just run his knuckles along Cas' sides that he actually has to grab his hand in a bid for some type of control. He mentally tells himself to _get a damn grip_ and rushes to finish his portion of the work and one of the drawings so that they can all turn their work in on time.

* * *

Dean can already tell he's gonna hate senior year. He already has a ton of Calculus homework, research in English and a Biology test looming over him and taunting him with how woefully unprepared he was for the whole school thing again. Cas is a welcome distraction, albeit a seriously odd one, but there's still Art and Jo. Dean doesn't even want to think about how awkward the past couple of weeks have been dodging her, sitting as far away from her as he could, and generally being a coward.

His parents of course found out about him ditching class and were none too pleased about it. But given the situation, he's pretty sure he got off scot-free.

Not free enough to get out of Art though. They weren't buying what he was selling with his whole _I'm just not good at drawing _routine. Sick or not they could still smell his bullshit a mile away. So, he'd have to suck it up. He wasn't looking forward to it, obviously, but Sam had reminded him that Lawrence High was not large enough to hide forever and he'd run into Jo eventually. Why not do it on his own terms?

It made sense in a vague, distant Sam could be right sometimes kind of way and Dean had to admit that it was the better of his options. He could A) Run into Jo in the halls and be in the middle of the huge scene that would erupt after she slapped him or B) Talk to her on his own. No bells and whistles. No fanfare. It was a terrifying thought, though. Owning up to the one thing that was his fault in all of this. Finally taking the plunge and trying to fix what should've never been broken in the first place.

It took an embarrassing amount of time for Dean to finally get up the courage to talk to her. He'd resorted to following her for an entire week before finally cornering her outside of school one Friday as she headed to her car. He was following her, stealthily he thought, but his bubble was subsequently burst when she stopped midstride. She hiked her bag onto her shoulder and without turning around said "Don't think I don't know that you've been following me for the better part of this week Winchester."

Dean was speechless for a moment before finally getting his wits about him. He's not even sure how he could've forgotten that he'd never ever been able to sneak up on Jo Harvelle. He coughed to try to give himself some time to figure out what he was gonna say to her and thought belatedly that he should've thought about that long before this moment.

"Jo look-" he started but was cut off when Jo swung around to look him dead in the eyes. They stood like that for a minute, five minutes, who knows. But neither of them said anything for a long time.

Jo didn't look like he'd expected though. The look in her eyes wasn't hell fire. It wasn't barely contained anger. She just looked sad. It took all of Dean's strength to not just go up to her and squeeze the life out of her, but he knew he'd lost the right to any affection from her.

"Jo" he tried again "I don't know what to say."

"You don't know-" she started and the sound of her voice was disbelieving, like she was expecting more from the person who'd been there for every major moment in her life. The person she loved like a brother who'd just disappeared without a trace.

"You've been here, a whole two weeks Dean. Two weeks and you don't know what to say to me? Maybe you should've thought about it that _the entire year you left without a word!" _And this was it. The moment Dean had wanted to avoid. The showdown that he really didn't want to happen. He should've known that options one and two were probably gonna converge at some point.

"You really have _nothing _to say to me? Nothing at all? Well let me tell you a few things Dean. This is not the time, ok? I have enough bullshit to deal with right now without you throwing a wrench in the plan and royally fucking my life again. Do you even have a clue how I was after you left? No, you don't because _you weren't there. Because you didn't even call! We were best friends Dean and you didn't even want to see me!"_ She screamed at him.

"I do" he said quietly as he stared at the ground. He couldn't look her in the eye right then. He'd never be able to get it out if he had to see the pain he was feeling reflected back at him.

"You do what?" she asked completely side tracked from the rant that Dean had so quietly stood through.

"I do know what I wanna say and I did want to see you. Might not have planned what I wanna say, but…Just, I do know ok? And it's the truth. It's not pretty and I had it my head that I was protecting you somehow by keeping it from you."

"Protecting me? Protecting me by just abandoning me, Dean? How is that even right in your mind? How? You could've told me that your dad got a job somewhere or whatever reason you had to leave! It couldn't've been that bad that you had to just leave me. You didn't have to just leave me." She says and her voice cracks a little. She's breaking and this was what Dean wanted to avoid. It's so unlike Jo to get like this, this emotional that it makes Dean feel like even more of a jerk.

"I'm sorry" is all that he can think to say and it's probably an inelegant reply to give when Jo's pouring her heart out, but that's what he's got. The people around them have mostly left the school completely, but a few of them stop and stare for a moment before they keep it moving. No blood drawn so it's not worth their energy. When he can see that they've finally gotten the picture to mind their own damn business, he tries to say the words that he should've said a year ago.

"Maybe I was protecting myself here too" he admits. "Maybe…maybe I didn't want my best friend to have to see me in pain. See me laid up some days that I couldn't even move. I was protecting you Jo. It was a stupid fucking thing to do, but it's the truth" he manages.

"The truth…wait, what? What do you mean you didn't want me to see you in pain Dean? What the hell does that even mean?" She asks and her eyes are pleading with him to just fucking say it already.

"Tell me!" She yells when an explanation doesn't seem forthcoming.

Dean swallows hard. Once, twice. He really didn't think that it'd be _this_ hard. "I was sick. I am-I _am _sick. So I left." It doesn't make much sense to his own ears so he can only imagine what Jo's thinking right now.

"Sick? What kind of sick?" She asks him and she's moving closer so Dean takes it as a good sign. He can see the anger and hurt begin to drain out of her face to be replaced by a more serious look of concern. He's not really sure what look he would rather. "What do you mean you were sick so you left? That doesn't make sense Dean. You seemed fine the last time I saw you. You looked-."

"Remember the whole Luke and Lisa thing?" He stops her because he has to get this out now. At her nod that says _of course, how could I ever forget that _he continues. "That's when I found out. When we all did. I was having these headaches that were so bad that I couldn't even see. At first I thought they were just normal headaches. Thought I was just stressed with school and Lisa and everything."

"But you weren't" she cuts in.

"Shit yeah I was, but that wasn't all it was. The headaches kept coming, getting worse until I passed out one day trying to answer the door to pay the pizza guy. And yeah, found out that finding my best friend boning my girlfriend really wasn't enough to make me feel like that much crap. So I had to leave to see what the fuck was wrong with me. To get treatment."

"So that's why? That's why everything?" she says trying to keep her voice even.

He shrugs. "Pretty much."

"But…why would you—" She starts to question, but whatever she'd wanted to add dies in her throat though because she's hugging Dean so hard he can barely breathe with the bone crushing intensity of it. He's stunned still for a moment before he's hugging back just as hard and whatever macho bravado he had dissipates right then because the tears are falling too fast to even begin to stop them.

"I'm sorry for being a jackass. For not telling you," he tells her.

"I'm sorry you're a jackass too," she says back and it brings a bit of levity to the seriousness of the situation.

"You don't know how much I've missed you Jo."

"Yeah I do. You don't think I just up and forgot that you existed did you? Dean, we've been best friends since forever. Since that jerk Mike Asher pushed me of that swing. So, don't even think about saying I don't know" she says as she wipes her tear-streaked face.

"Jo, I'm really-"

"Dean, if you tell me you're sorry again I'm gonna punch you." And he can hear the smile in her voice before he sees it. Knows from that one thing that they're gonna be ok. He still has so much to tell her, but he knows that they'll be ok.


	10. It's Going to be Alright

**A/N**: I'm sorry that this is a short chapter, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging for so long. And, writing this chapter seriously hurt, so I had to end it. Also, there's no Cas this chapter, but this had to happen sooner rather than later and I didn't want to force his presence in this chapter when he wasn't needed. I hope you enjoy though and thanks _so much_ for the favs, follows, and reviews guys. They've been awesome. **  
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* * *

Dean had never really struggled with acceptance before. There were irrevocable truths that he'd had to deal with from day one.

Next year wasn't guaranteed: accepted. He'd never go to college, never see the pride in his parents' eyes that they always felt for Sammy by walking across the stage: he'd accepted that too. Other things though, were harder to wrap his head around. Some things were a little harder to take lying down and compartmentalize with the list of the unavoidable.

He'd never have kids some day, someone besides Sam, his parents, or Jo that would love him unconditionally and without fail and he just, he could _not_ accept that. It wasn't fair and although he'd been told a long time ago that life was a bitch that fucked you ten ways from Sunday, the knowledge that life screwed everyone failed to bring him any comfort.

Sometimes he could be grateful though. He could be grateful for his family, the fact that they were strong when he couldn't be-that they could pack themselves into the places where he wasn't whole enough to fill. Even for the stubborn idea that home was where he needed to be when he knew the comfort would only make it harder. He could be grateful for getting the chance to experience life in a way Anna never could, for the time that he _did_ have and most days it was enough to get him out of bed.

Other days, when the air was too oppressive and the future taunting him with its finality, he didn't want to move and no amount of gratitude for time could make him want to do so. On those days he found himself rooted to the spot in his bed, his pin striped duvet smothering but shielding him.

On the third day of his unwillingness to get out of bed or talk to anyone, they cracked, or rather John cracked. Surprisingly he was the first.

Every day John had been there. With him, supporting him, and anchoring him to life as hard as he could for as long as he could. But his father's support was not one of whispered words of encouragement. John was a physical man and he could only show his heart the only way that he'd known how. So every time his father hugged him, patted him on the back on the way out to school, or squeezed his shoulder just a little bit too hard and for too long, Dean knew. In those moments that disappeared as quickly as they'd come he knew the thing that his father could never eloquently express.

It's with that knowledge in the back of his brain that has Dean fumbling when his muffled _leave me alone _isn't met with his mother's quiet _Ok, baby. Just, come out when you're ready, _but with a much richer response of _Dean_.

That's it.

Just, _Dean_.

It was just his name, no shouting to get his ass out of bed, but just the one word.

Only it wasn't.

John's tone said all the things that he could never say himself. It was a voice that had known heartbreak, had known sorrow, and would come to know the pangs of grief.

Dean wanted, more than he should've been allowed, to wipe the slate clean. Erase the last year into oblivion so that he'd never have to hear his dad's voice sound like _that_, but he couldn't. No matter how great the want, there were still some binding truths, the things he had to accept.

He instantly regrets how accusatory he sounds when he asks, "Why are you here?" Like Mary and Sam had sent in the cavalry as a last resort when their attempts hadn't worked. He figured that they'd told him what to say, knowing his own words would fail him when they counted, but his dad was always full of surprises.

"You don't have to leave this room if you don't want to, you know" he says as he makes his way over to Dean's bed and shifts until he's so close that Dean could feel his body head radiating through the bedspread. And Dean can hear the hitch in his breath when he speaks, the struggle for control because it's what John always had.

He continues though and Dean knows that this might be the last time that he has this openness. "You don't even have to leave the house if you never want to again. Your mom and I talked about it and if that's what you want, then that's what you want. We're not going to stop you." The _although we want to _implied but still left unsaid. John's words hold an air of resignation and Dean realizes then that his parents had also come to know the sting of acceptance, sharp, twisting, and wholly unavoidable.

John sat near Dean's covered knees for what felt like ages. Maybe he'd wanted Dean to respond, to say something, _anything_. But maybe he enjoyed the silence too and wanted it to stretch for as long as Dean would allow.

Dean eventually feels the dip in his bed lessen as John finally gets up. But he can still feel his presence lingering on the side of the bed as if he still has so much more to say and Dean imagines then that if there had been world enough and time he'd talk to Dean for hours, just because he could.

John eventually moves from his spot and his footsteps echo across the quiet of the room as he makes his way back towards the door. Just when Dean thinks that he's going to hear the door quietly close, he hears his dad's gruff voice instead. "I'm just going to leave this here for you. And if you change your mind and you do want to leave, for _anything_, you don't have to tell us. We just want you to be happy, Dean."

He doesn't retort with _How can I be happy again?_ because it's too dejected and the relief at finally getting that sentiment out isn't worth driving the knife home any further. Instead, he lets his dad get one last glance back at his covered frame without a word and leave his room for good.

He shoves the covers off when he knows for sure that John has gone and flinches as the sunlight catches his eyes after days of hibernation. His feet feel like cinderblocks, frozen with the numbness of days' worth stagnation, but he pads across the floor anyway, his movements a little stilted. When he gets to the computer desk next to the door to grab whatever his dad left for him, he sees it.

A brochure for a support group for teens and people in their early twenties who were either survivors of cancer or terminally ill whose families had obviously deemed their moods too sullen and morose to be natural, or conducive to a healthy life.

_Choosing life is the hard part_ the front cover reads_, we're here to make it easier._

Easier.

_Easier_.

That-well that was bullshit. Dean feels a sudden burst of anger that he'd been trying to suppress during this whole messy ordeal, but can't even begin to stop the bubbling of his ire.

It wasn't _easy_. It would not and could not be easy and he hates the place already because they were under some ridiculous misconception that the weight of any of this could be lessened.

He crumples the brochure hard into the palm of his hand and is poised to throw it in the trash when something inside tells him not to. He's not sure what it is or why, but something makes him un-ball the paper and flatten it back out into readable parts. He reads through the flaps, reads the address, glances at the pictures, and takes in the supposed success stories with a growing sense of anxiety. He didn't know if he could do the things this place was asking him to do. He had no idea if he was even capable of the type of expression that this place wanted from him.

He'd known that his parents knew about his depression. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he was a poster child for the side effects of terminal illness. Despite his smiles within those first few weeks of being back home and his valiant efforts to not make life any harder than it had to be for them, the light had eventually faded. He couldn't manage wooden smiles and joviality 24/7 just for their sakes. Though even more damning signs began to appear within the passing weeks as short shorts, and flip-flops gave way to pants and light sweaters. They'd caught him on more than one occasion wandering the house at 3 a.m., sleep a far away possibility that he couldn't grasp no matter how long he lay still with closed eyes. Other times they'd find him just staring out of the kitchen window into the field that lay just beyond their back yard, face expressionless and blank like he was looking but not seeing.

Dean's a little surprised that it took them this long into the game to actually suggest outside help. They'd never shied away from anything that this illness had imposed upon their lives before.

He thinks though, that they were probably hoping against hope that he'd come to them. Probably hoping that this could be the one thing that they could do on their own because they were his parents and that was their job. Maybe they'd thought that he'd come to them in the middle of the night like he had when he was four years old and had told them that he was scared of the monsters that snuck into his room when the lights went out. They'd rub his head and soothe away every frightened hiccup, wipe away the tears that soaked his pajamas.

But this was a different life and he wasn't the same boy who needed his parents' quiet reassurances that everything would be ok.

Because it wouldn't be and they knew that too.

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**A/N:** I seriously felt the need to come back to tell you guys how much I appreciate your response to this chapter. This is probably the most follows I've gotten since posting this story and I wanted y'all to know how awesome it is that you're enjoying this story, especially since I had such a hard time fighting writer's block to get this one out. Special thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 10 and I apologize for the feels. If it soothes your masochistic heart, know that I cried writing this.


	11. I'll Wait At Your Doorstep

It's 2 a.m. on a Saturday night and the rain is beating a lazy pattern against Dean's windowpane. The effect is calming and gives him something to focus on besides the dark expanse of wall that he'd had to endure many nights before. Dean's a little startled when the pattern changes suddenly though. Instead of the repetition that he'd come to know for the last few hours, an indiscernible click joins the noise every minute or so. He doesn't bother moving at first to see what this new sound could be, but it eventually becomes more insistent until Dean turns to notice a rock hitting his window. He pushes back his bedspread and makes his way over to the window to see who the hell could be outside of his window at this time of night, or morning, whatever.

He flinches hard at the sight that greets him from below.

Staring hard up at his window, rock in hand poised to throw another one up is Jo. She's drenched from head to toe and she doesn't move when she sees Dean appear at the window. She just stands there looking to all the world a lost puppy who needs a home until he finally snaps out of his shock to travel through the house as quietly as possible to get to her. He attempts to be as quiet as possible when he flicks on the porch light and opens up the door to let the vicious sound of the rain outside make it's way into the house. As soon as he opens the door he instantly grabs her and yanks her into the house and takes in of her purple lips and shivering frame.

"Jo, what the hell?" he hisses as he strips her of the jean jacket that's plastered to her body.

"Y-you w-w-wouldn't answer my c-calls" she says by way of explanation and Dean mentally face palms. He didn't intentionally shut her out for the second time when he vehemently promised her that he wouldn't. She doesn't let him forget that fact either.

"You said y-you wouldn't do it a-again" she manages to get out between a sneeze loud enough to wake the entire house. Dean clutches her shoulders and forces her up the stairs to the bathroom he shares with Sam, disregarding the puddles of water that she's leaving in her wake; he can clean it up later. The only thing that matters is getting her dry so that she doesn't die of pneumonia because that's not her hand to play.

Dean's suspicions that they'd woken the house with their noise downstairs is confirmed when he sees the light go on in his parents' bedroom and a very tired Mary comes walking out to catch Dean and Jo as they near the bathroom door.

"Dean, what's going on? Why's Jo here at this time of morning?" Mary says as she attempts to wipe the sleep from her eyes.

Dean's at a loss. He doesn't want to say that he'd promised to never abandon Jo again and did just that when he once again disappeared off of the face of the earth for a week and a half. Can't really describe the look he saw on Jo's face when he first looked out to see her standing just below his window. Luckily he doesn't have to say any of those things because Jo does so for him.

"I needed to see Dean. I missed him," Jo says between her intense trembling that obviously won't stop unless they get her out of her sopping wet clothes. Dean tries not to acknowledge the ball of pain that that sentiment creates in the middle of his chest. Thankfully, Mary takes this as all the explanation that she needs and it probably is. If Dean had shut them out, it easy to figure that the same thing happened with Jo.

"Dean, help Jo to the bathroom and get her some fresh clothes and I'll go downstairs and make some hot chocolate for you two."

"Mom" Dean says when Mary nears the foot of the stairs, "Don't forget-"

"The marshmallows" Mary finishes for him. "Like I'd ever forget the marshmallows."

"Thanks."

"No problem sweetie, just hurry and make sure Jo gets out of those clothes before she catches a cold."

Dean grabs onto Jo and heads towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. He turns on the heater and the light to the bathroom and helps a shivering Jo step inside. She sits down uncomfortably on the toilet seat, dripping water all around and when she goes to start taking off her shoes Dean realizes that he should probably give her a little privacy.

"Umm, I'm gonna go get some of my dry clothes for you and leave 'em by the door. Be back in a sec" Dean says and now that he can see her in the light he can see just how bad a number standing out in the rain has done on her. Her lips are still a little purple and her nose and cheeks have already begun to redden. There's really no chance of avoiding a cold at this point.

He leaves her in the bathroom and closes the door behind him to head over to his bedroom to see a sleepy Sam at the door.

"Dean what's goin on?"

"Nothin important Sammy, go back to bed" Dean reassures him. Sam is obviously in no mood to actually get to the bottom of what's going on because he just yawns his ok and heads back into his room to flop down onto his bed.

Dean makes it in and out of his room in no time flat and leaves the clothes by the door for Jo to grab and then heads down the stairs to follow the delicious smell of hot chocolate wafting through the house.

Mary's sitting at her usual spot at the table and two cups of hot chocolate are waiting for Dean and Jo for when she comes down. As soon as Dean takes his seat, Mary gets up to head back upstairs. She leans over to Dean to kiss his temple and whispers, "fix it" before disappearing back into her room for the night.

Jo comes down from the bathroom not too long after, hair still damp, but remarkably more dry than when she went in. She stands at the kitchen door just staring at Dean for awhile until something clicks and she gets that determined look on her face that says she was done with Dean's bullshit yesterday and isn't going to be taking it anymore. She walks over to the empty space housing her hot chocolate and takes a few satisfying sips before she begins to speak.

"You're a jackass Dean."

"Tell me how you really feel, Jo."

"Don't even start with me. I haven't seen or heard from you in almost two weeks so don't even."

"Well, I had some things going on that I needed to deal with."

"And you couldn't have just told me that so I wasn't worried out of mind? I called your phone at least twenty times and at first I thought-at first I thought something had happened to you. Then you started forwarding my freaking phone calls like it didn't even matter that I wanted to make sure you were ok!"

"Well I wasn't ok alright?"

"No, it's not all-fucking-right Dean!" Jo yells and then quickly realizes what time of night it is before lowering her voice. "You promised me that you wouldn't do this again. You said you wouldn't shut me out."

"I know."

"If you know then why do it?"

"Because this is my stupid fucking life Jo. This is it and it's shit and I just didn't want to be bothered right then. Not with my parents, or Sam, you, or anyone. I just couldn't. I'm sorry, but I couldn't."

"Dean"

"It's fine Jo, really just…you know my parents want me to go to a support group? Some free love, handholding, talk about your feelings and pray support group. And I should go for them ya know? I know they want me to go for me, but I _should_ go for them. It'd make them happy to think that I'm still all here."

"And are you…all here?" She hedges.

"Yes" he lies and at the incredulous look in Jo's eyes he finally adds, "Honestly? Not even a little bit, but that place seems like a load of crap, promising to fix you and make everything a-ok when it's not."

"I doubt the people who go there think it's a load of crap and I also doubt they'll promise to fix you. But maybe you should at least give it a try, it could be good for you?" Jo half insists, half questions as she idly pushes a marshmallow down until it pops up again over and over. "I mean, it couldn't really hurt all that much to try it out could it?"

"Maybe it wouldn't hurt but what would it really help? Nothing's gonna change and I doubt that it'd be good for me. Everyone's always talking about what's so good for me or what I need. But nobody knows what I need or they do and just ignore it because they know I can't have it anyway. So they give me what they think I want, what they think I need and I can't handle it most days because it's so real Jo. This…everything is so real and it's not going away. And I wish, most days I just wish for the things I can't have."

Jo doesn't know what to say or if she should really say anything at all but she knows that she wants to hold him tight and whisper that she'll love him and that the world isn't such a cruel place. She wants to tell him that he can have the thing he wants the most and that she'll find a way to give it to him. But she can't and won't tell lies to appease him, won't whisper platitudes that hold no more weight than the rote _I'm sorry for your losses _that everyone says because it's ingrained.

"I just want four years from now, you and me in some strange city, at a strange school because that's how I always pictured it you know? Maybe I'd have made it there with you, maybe not, but that's what I wanted and it was mine to have. It was my dream to have" Dean says and Jo can see the tears well up in his eyes as he struggles to keep them there. It was never _really_ Dean's dream to go off to college, but it was Jo's and neither of them could imagine being without the other. She'd told him over and over that she wouldn't leave him behind and now feels unreasonably guilty because now she will and she can't change it. Nothing and no one can and she feels so helplessly small in the grand scheme of things.

The hot chocolate went cold ages ago and neither of them really had a chance to enjoy Christmas and childhood filled to the brim of their coffee cups. So Jo just abandons her cup and scoots her chair closer so that their legs are touching knee to toe. She lays her head on his shoulder, closes her eyes, and imagines tomorrow as if they could both be the people they'd planned to be when they were ten years old until she falls asleep.

* * *

Dean wakes up almost three hours later and feels no better rested than if he'd never gone to sleep at all. He'd brought Jo up to his room minutes after she'd fallen asleep and layed her in his bed while he took the cold hardwood floor.

The torrential rains let up thirty minutes ago, so Dean wakes Jo up so that he can bring her back home before Ellen notices she's gone and crucifies her on the front lawn.

He gently nudges her leg and calls her name. "Jo. Jo wake up." He'd somehow forgotten that she sleeps like a log and that gentle shoving would do nothing more than irritate her sleep than actually wake her up. "Come on Jo" he says louder as he rolls her from her comfortable position on her stomach onto her back. "We gotta get you back home before Ellen wakes up."

"Uhhhhhhhh, five more minutes Dean" she pleads as her eyes finally open.

"Don't make me pick you up and carry you out to the car" he warns.

"Please do" she yawns. "My legs are too sleepy for walking anyway."

"Seriously Jo, we gotta go."

"Ughhhh, fine" she says and gets up to stretch her arms behind her head until she can hear a distinct pop in her joints. "Hurry up and grab the spare toothbrush so we can get out of here."

By the time Jo comes out of the bathroom, Dean is up and ready to go. He hurries to the bathroom himself to perform his morning ritual and they're out of the house in the next ten minutes before anyone in the house is awake to see them leave.

Jo's lucky to not live very far away from Dean's house so he doesn't have to break any traffic laws getting her there before Ellen wakes up. By the time they reach her house, the sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, casting a hazy glow over the town.

Jo doesn't hop out of the car like her life depends on it, because it does, but instead unbuckles her seatbelt and pulls her knees close to her and leans her head against the window. She's staring at Dean or right through him and it makes him feel naked, but he doesn't dare ask her to stop. She's looked at him before sure, looked at him and seen him. Seen every white lie, every held back emotion, and every secret he'd tried desperately to keep hidden. She's staring at him now and it's none of those things. It's not a searching look, or one meant to make him spill his darkest secrets, but more like she's trying to commit him to memory. Almost like she's trying to capture his image in stolen glances and hard stares so that she can eventually compile them into a grand mosaic to keep at the forefront of her mind forever. The realization is unnerving and makes him want to throw up.

After ten minutes of silence that's teetering on the divide between awkward and uncomfortable, she unfurls her knees and leans over to hug him so tight that he never wants to forget the feeling, kisses his cheek and gets out of the car without a word.

* * *

Dean regrets the decision as soon as he's sat in the parking lot across from the building. It'd been a twenty-mile drive from Lawrence to get there and he'd taken the scenic route so that he could change his mind before he actually made it to the place.

He's here though.

He didn't chicken out a few miles in and turn the car around but kept driving along even as he repeated _this is a stupid idea_ over and over in his head.

He's already ten minutes late because he'd sat waiting for all of the people to go in and couldn't bring himself to do the same when no one was left in the lot. His eyes are so fixated on the white, nondescript building that he doesn't even realize someone walking up to his car and is almost startled out his skin when they knock on his window.

"Ummm, son is there somethin' I can help you with?" A man who might be the sheriff asks when he finally gets his window down. "You've been sittin' here mighty long and if you're lost I can point you in the right direction, but if not I'm gonna have to ask you to kindly keep on movin."

Dean belatedly realizes that he probably seemed ridiculously suspicious just sitting outside of a building, staring like he's waiting for the right moment to press the detonator. The people inside probably called the cops five minutes ago. "Oh no, I'm—I'm not lost. I'm supposed to be in there actually" Dean says and points towards the building in question. The sheriff's eyes soften at that because he obviously knows exactly what the place is and why Dean would be there.

"It's alright son, you know? Those folks in there are about the best people I've ever met. They don't bite." Dean's sure that they don't, but it doesn't make them seem any more appealing than when he'd read their brochure weeks ago. "You can stay out here as long as you like, but it'll probably do you a world of good if you went on inside" the sheriff says and he pats the hood of the car and walks back over to wherever he's hidden his car.

The guy's right. Sitting out in the car for two hours isn't going to help him, but he's not so sure that going inside will be much better. But he came this far for a reason and he thinks he at least owes it to himself to give it one chance if nothing else.

He puts his car in drive and moves a little closer to the entrance, takes a deep breath and walks up to the wooden double doors. They creak slightly signaling his presence and a woman in her mid-thirties greets him at the check- in window.

"Who are you here to see, darling?" she asks with a genuine smile.

"I'm here for the support group with Mr. Hamish."

"Oh, right this way. You're not too late, they've just gotten started with the introductions" she says and guides him through the long corridor to the back of the building. "Don't worry, you'll be fine," she says through another smile and leaves Dean to take the step that he needs to take on his own. He takes a moment to catch his breath and then finally opens the door. All eyes snap up to see the newcomer and Dean immediately feels self-conscious. If he'd just come on time he could've blended into the background as just another member of the crowd. He'd come, leave, and no one would miss him when he didn't come back next week. Thankfully, the group leader doesn't acknowledge his lack of punctuality and just smiles at him and motions for him to take the open seat near the snack table.

Before the actual introductions get underway, the leader-Mr. Hamish, takes out a notepad introduces himself. "Welcome and welcome back to old and new friends. I'd like to start the session off by saying a prayer for those that we've lost and who've been called home to God." Dean wants to scoff at that last part, but doesn't say a word as Mr. Hamish begins to speak.

"Almighty Father, eternal God, hear our prayers for your children whom You have called from this life to Yourself. Grant them light, happiness, and peace. Let them pass in safety through the gates of death, and live forever with all" Hamish begins to pray and everyone in the room has their heads bowed in respect for the departed. Dean does as well, but he zoned out the prayer the moment he peeked open his eyes to take a look at the people around him. There's a hodgepodge of different people sitting around in the circle. Some of them obviously wheeled in, others on oxygen tanks, and some that look the same as any stranger walking down the street.

Mr. Hamish finishes off his prayer with an _Amen_ and promptly turns his attention back to the group.

"Ok, folks, we're going to get started with the introductions. Bela why don't you go first." The girl Bela rolls her eyes as if she really, really doesn't want to be there and says, "Hi, all. I'm Bela Talbot and I'm a survivor" Bela says to the group and like robots, everyone in the room responds with "Hi, Bela."

The next to go is a guy named Garth, who's a little, no really way too chipper considering he shares that he had retinal cancer that took his left eye and that he's lost most of the vision in his right. Dean wonders if he could ever be like him, accepting and just…happy to be alive.

They continue to go around the circle until Dean hears the story of everyone in the room. They'd all been given the option to not actually share their affliction with the group, but no one held back. They'd all seemed comfortable enough with their disease to talk about it. Dean doesn't have time to hope that he can do the same when the spotlight finally shines on him.

"Go on" Hamish encourages.

"Well…I'm Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Hi, Dean" they all respond back.

"I'm 17 years old and I'm from Lawrence" he says and he can see the expectant look in everyone's eyes as he finishes his sentence.

"I, uhhh, I have a brain tumor and honestly, it really fucking sucks" he says and everyone in the room starts to chuckle. He even hears a few people say _don't I know it _and _I hear ya man._

He feels the tension bleed out of body at that and he lets out the breath that he's been holding since he got on the road this morning.

The place doesn't seem nearly as bad as how he'd built it up to be in his head.

The rest of support group is spent getting to know everyone better so that they can be more comfortable talking in front of everyone when the time comes.

Garth seems to latch onto Dean like a starfish to a rock and follows him around for the rest of the meeting and though the guy is a little eccentric, Dean finds that he doesn't actually mind him at all.

The meeting is over just as quickly as it began and before Dean knows it, it's already 2 o'clock.

"Alright, guys gather around and get back to your seats" Hamish says loudly over the raucous sound of everyone talking and mingling. After a few failed attempts, he finally manages to herd everyone back to their seats so that they can end their session.

"I want to thank everyone here for having the courage to take the plunge and be here today. You've taken a very important step towards dealing with this obstacle that's been thrown your way just by walking through those doors" Hamish encourages, mostly to the new faces that were wound tight and worried about being there today. "

I want to end this session by reading to you one of my favorite poems" he says as he takes out a sheet of paper and places it on his clipboard. "I think that once you hear it, you'll understand its purpose here today."

_Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence._

_As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit._

_If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time._

_Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass._

_Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness._

_Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should._

_Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul._

_With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world._

_Be cheerful. Strive to be happy._

When Mr. Hamish finally finishes off the poem, he has everyone hanging on his every word and he was so right. Every word in the poem resonated in some way with each and every person in the room, teenagers and those brand new to the real world, and Dean knows that if he never remembers the words to the poem, he'll remember the way it's made him feel in this moment.

"What I want you guys to do for next session is to write your own "Desiderata" poem. I want you to really think about the things that you find are most necessary for a full and happy life and write those thoughts down to bring with you next week" Mr. Hamish finishes and then bids farewell to everyone until the next meeting.

Dean leaves the session with a smile on his face. Not because Mr. Hamish tried to "fix" him, but because he met people like him that actually understand what he's going through and he knows that he will be coming back next week.

* * *

The drive back to Lawrence seems to go by at warp speed compared to how long it seemed to take him to get to Topeka. The entire way back, Dean thought about his life philosophy and realized it would be a lot harder to come up with something for next week than he'd thought. It was a little unfair that all of the best things had already been written down in that poem already.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts about the day's meeting that it takes him a moment to realize that he's taken a wrong turn somewhere and is on the same road that he was on the night that he'd almost run down Cas.

He really shouldn't be surprised. He really, really shouldn't be surprised that he sees a familiar tan trench coat walking alongside the thickness of the trees. If it weren't for the familiar color, Cas might've blended into the background.

He stops his car in the middle of the road, puts it in reverse and backs up until he's pulled up directly next to Cas, who actually seems surprised to see him for a change.

"Cas, why are you walking out here in the middle of nowhere by yourself, _again?_ I thought we had an agreement."

"I agreed not to walk in the middle of the road, Dean. I didn't agree to not walk on it at all" Cas says and he does have a point.

"Why don't I give you a ride before your legs give out on the side of the road, huh? I can bring you wherever you need to go" Dean offers and hopes that this time around Cas actually takes him up on it.

Strangely, he doesn't take very long to think about it before he walks over to Dean's car and slides inside without a word.

They drive in silence for a few minutes before Dean finally asks, "So, where to?"

"I had no particular destination in mind actually. I was just walking."

"Jeez Cas, don't you think it's a little dangerous to just be walking around by yourself with no other people around?" Dean questions and an edge of worry seeps into his tone. He doesn't know the guy very well, but he likes him more than enough to worry about his safety just wandering around deserted old highways.

"I can take care of myself, Dean" Cas says exasperatedly like he's had to explain a thousand times to too many people that he's can handle himself alone.

"I don't doubt that" Dean mumbles and lets the line of conversation drop in favor of discussing what's really on his mind right now. "I'm actually starving, man. You want to come grab some lunch with me while you figure out where you want to wander off to today?"

Cas looks over at him then and Dean quickly remembers why the guy makes his heart beat fast and his palms get sweaty because those blue eyes are focused intently on him. He seems to ignore the blush steadily rising up Dean's neck when he replies, "I'm amenable to getting food at the moment, thank you Dean."

"Awesome. I know a place" Dean says and he turns up the radio so that Zeppelin's greatest hits are playing in the background as he and Cas head over to his favorite diner.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for leaving it here but this chapter was turning into a monster! I should have the next chapter up by the weekend. Again, thank you guys a bunch for your kind words and for following this story.


	12. I Hope That You Find Your Way

**A/N:** I'm a heathen who posted this chapter without thanking you guys for your reviews, favs, and follows. Seriously, you're the best and all you have to do now is wait for your delicious fruit cake to be delivered on Christmas Eve. I promise that it'll be better than all of those other fruitcakes that are absolutely disgusting because yours will be extra special. Give it a chance when it gets to you ok?

Oh yeah, R&R please my lovelies.

* * *

"Is this place very far Dean?" Cas questions as they finally make the turn onto the road headed to the diner.

"Nah, just a little bit longer and we'll be there. Ten minutes tops" Dean responds and he really hopes that the place isn't full because he's not so sure that he's going to make it.

They pull up to the restaurant in another fifteen minutes instead of ten since every red light in Lawrence seemed to be dead set on sending Dean to an early grave from hunger pangs.

The old diner is exactly as Dean remembers. Maybe a little grimier along the edges of the chipped windowsills, but still the same place that served the best food for miles around.

The two of them make their way to the double doors and when the bell chimes overhead a waitress immediately greets them with an unnaturally large smile on her face. Dean finds himself smiling right back because he's happy to find that some things never changed in the place.

"I'm Marina and I'll be taking care of you today" she greets them. "I've got the counter and booths open, take your pick" she says as she grabs two menus from by the cash registers and points to either side of the diner silently asking the boys to take their pick.

"I guess we'll take a booth if that's cool with you Cas."

"A booth sounds good" Cas responds as the waitress directs them to a booth near the far end of the restaurant. There are only a few people in the place, most of them in the booths near the entrance. The same antique jukebox player sits across from the counter and someone's already tuned it to Blue Oyster Cult's "Fear the Reaper."

"Can I get you boys something to drink to start you off today? We've got rootbeer, coke, diet coke, lemonade, punch, and beer but I doubt you boys are a day over 16" their waitress says once they've both slid into the red and silver booths.

"We're 17 actually" Cas corrects as he flicks the edge of the menu back and forth.

"Well, tell me something. Could've fooled me with that baby face of yours" the waitress says through a chuckle. Dean's pretty sure that if they were regulars that she'd have pinched Cas' cheeks and called him sweetie by now.

The seconds start to tick away and Cas still hasn't decided what to order. "Cas, you figured out what you want to drink yet?"

"I think I'll just have a water, thanks," he says after far too long and Dean looks like he's about to choke on his own spit because who comes to a diner and asks for _water_? There's absolutely no way he'll get a burger down right without something acidic to force it.

"Dude, you seriously_ cannot _get water."

"Why not, Dean?"

"Because you don't come to a diner to get water. It's...un-American."

Cas casts an incredulous look Dean's way. "I doubt that entirely, but some people do enjoy water."

"Only people raised in caves enjoy water Cas" Dean says and he should really let the guy have his water, but he's enjoying messing with Cas too much to let it die.

"Or people who don't want to die when their sixty because they couldn't give their bodies the proper nutrients" Cas tosses back and shuts Dean right up. Old age and dying are two topics that he has no intention of even touching today; his mood is too good at the moment.

"Yeah, yeah just order already" Dean says and he turns back to his waitress who's broad smile has turned into more of a tight lipped grin. She's trying hard to stay chipper for a nice tip in the end, but is obviously annoyed that they still haven't made up their minds when two other customers are walking over to her section.

"I suppose I'll have the Caesar Salad Deluxe with the dressing on the side" Cas tells the waitress and hands her his menu.

"Awww, you're killing me!" Dean groans exaggeratedly. "A salad? Really? Guess I'll have to eat for the both of us then." He turns to the waitress with a glint in his eye. "I'll have the triple cheeseburger with everything on it, fully loaded hash, a side order of bacon and a slice of your pie of the day." Dean finishes his order and is trying hard to hide his smirk at the disgusted look on Cas' face like his order is a slight against humanity. Honestly, Dean's not really even that hungry and he's probably going to have to pry his mouth open to get all of it down, but it was definitely worth the look Cas has on his face right now.

"Dean, that's-that's atrocious. There's no way that you'll be able to eat all of that."

Dean hands his menu over to the waitress and responds, "Oh, you just watch me."

* * *

Dean's happy that the place is empty and the food comes out quickly because his stomach was starting to feel like it was pissed and was about to start revolting if it didn't come out soon.

Marina places their plates and says her customary "Just call me if you two need anything else, ok?" before sauntering off behind the counter to wrap the forks and knives.

Neither of them speak for what has to be a comfortable ten minutes and there's no way Dean would've been able to say anything anyway with so much food stuffed in his mouth that he looks like a tiny baby chipmunk. He'll slap himself later for not acting more like a gentleman in front of the guy that he really, _really_ wants to get to know better, but right now he's too preoccupied and starved to care.

Cas doesn't seem to mind though, but he's watching Dean with a sort of morbid fascination at the fact that the food just keeps going, and going, and going. Dean thinks that he probably should've warned the guy beforehand that he was part human, part black hole.

"So Cas," Dean says to cut through the silence as he rips apart a strip of bacon, "how ya been?" Not the best opener, but he'll take it.

Cas takes a few bites of his salad before he says anything and Dean's starting to think that maybe he doesn't want to go for small talk right now. "I've been well Dean, though I haven't seen you around very much lately."

"I was out of town for a little while" he lies.

He can feel Cas' eyes boring into him, searching. "Long family vacation?"

"Something like that, yeah." The look Cas is hurling his way is saying _don't lie to me Dean Winchester_, but he can also see something else there that he can't quite identify. He'd almost,_ almost_ forgotten how disconcerting Cas' stares could be. How in the few times he's been on the other end of one, he'd felt the need to tell Cas every dirty little secret, every lie he's ever told. He knows he has to cut the tension before he really does end up telling Cas his life story and then some. "Cas, did you actually _miss _me?" he asks and he's secretly hoping-fantasizing is more like it-that Cas will say of course and kiss him stupid.

"Biology was a little strange without you there I'll admit," Cas says instead, "but I think we managed the drawings just fine without you." It takes a moment for Dean to register that the odd look on Cas' face is indeed a smirk and _holy shit_ is Cas joking with him right now? Fucking making fun of Dean's sub-par Science skills. It doesn't sting though. Just the thought of Cas joking makes his head feel woozy with something like delight that _he_ made it happen. It's strange coming out of his mouth and the look on his face is even weirder, but Dean decides that it looks really awesome on him.

"Ha, ha, really funny Cas. I bet you went to the restroom and cried everyday you came to class and I wasn't there."

"You're absolutely right Dean, I cried every single day. People were starting to worry that I'd developed a sudden bladder problem when I kept running out of the classroom during roll call. The situation was getting out of hand, honestly" Cas says and Dean's never really seen Cas smile so much in the short time they've known each other, but he wants to trace every one of his laugh lines until his fingers start to hurt.

"Dean?" Cas questions with a furrow to his brow and it takes Dean a minute to realize that he's been staring a little bit. Ok, maybe he's staring so hard that Cas probably thought that'd he had a sudden stroke.

"Oh, ummm yeah. Good, I'm good."

"Are you sure? The last time you got that look I thought you were about to pass out" he says and Dean wants to jump into the nearest hole in the ground because he was really hoping that Cas didn't remember that, but he's thankfully too oblivious to the fact that Dean had been on the verge of getting a seriously embarrassing boner that day.

"I'm fine, Cas. Really I am. It's probably just the food getting to me. I feel like I'm about to explode."

"Then why are you still eating that pie?"

Dean glances up from the large portion that he was about to stuff in his mouth with a sheepish look on his face. "There's _always_ room for pie, Cas. Always."

"It doesn't really look that appetizing. I think you could live without the heart attack you're about to have if you eat one more bite of that."

Dean recoils like he's been slapped. He lifts his fork in Cas' direction, pie still teetering on the edge about to fall off with one misplaced hand gesture. "You don't ever talk about pie that way, man. Ever. We might have to end this friendship right now if that's how it's gonna be."

Dean's half expecting Cas to pass another snarky remark, but instead finds him crowding into his space as he leans over from his side of the booth to grab the fork out of Dean's hand. He studies at the piece for a moment as if he's trying to decide whether or not the tiny bit alone might give him diabetes on the spot, but finally just goes for it. He brings it to his mouth and takes the world's slowest, most infuriatingly sexy bite without even knowing it and Dean wants more than anything to lick the lemon meringue from the inside of Cas' mouth. Dean doesn't even know when Cas closes his eyes but he's savoring the taste like he's never had sugar before and that is just absurd.

"Told you it was good" Dean says smugly.

"It was" Cas admits. "I've never had pie before."

"Oh, oh that's just wrong. What kind of parents deprive their child of pie?" Dean jokes but it falls flat when he sees Cas visibly flinch. He doesn't know what he's done wrong or what he's said wrong but he wants to take it back and go back to twenty seconds ago when Cas was blissed out from lemony goodness. He wants to say he's sorry but he's not sure what he'd be apologizing for and when Cas tells him that he's ready to go he wants to slap himself. Hard.

"Oh, ok sure. Lemme just get the check."

Dean motions for their waitress to come over and pays for both his and Cas' food and they leave the diner without another word.

* * *

They've been driving around aimlessly for at least fifteen minutes in silence and Dean almost wants to ask where Cas needs to be dropped off, but really doesn't want him to get out of his car just yet. So he keeps on driving, hoping that Cas will stop giving him the cold shoulder.

He doesn't have to wait long though. Cas is staring out of the window after they've passed Lee's hardware store for the third time when he breaks the tense silence.

"How long have you lived in Lawrence?"

Dean's stunned for a second at the sound of Cas' voice before he answers. "All my life really. Pretty much the only home I've ever known. What about you?"

"My family moved here about a year ago for my father's job. It's definitely an interesting place."

Dean snorts at that because he knows that interesting is synonymous with podunk and boring but he doesn't call Cas on it.

"So, is it just you and your folks?"

"I have three older brothers, but none of them live here in Lawrence."

"Big family, huh? I don't know if I could handle more than one Sammy running around getting on my nerves all day."

"Sammy?" Cas asks as he turns towards Dean for the first time since they left the diner.

"Yeah, he's my kid brother. Floppy hair, gangly limbs, might've seen him around school. He's a freshman."

"I do recall seeing you with a boy who fits that description in the beginning of the year."

"Yupp, that's my brother the Sasquatch" Dean says with every bit of brotherly affection seeping into his tone.

"Having a younger sibling must be nice" Cas says as he turns his head to gaze out of the window and Dean wonders what he's thinking right then. He can't help thinking about whether Cas enjoyed himself or not, even with his unwitting screw up at the diner. He'd smiled at Dean, joked with him even, but the guy was so hard to read that Dean couldn't tell if he'd realized that they'd accidentally fell into a date. Or if he did realize and was freaking out internally about the whole thing.

He wants to ask him, but doesn't want to scare him off anymore than he probably has so he just keeps his eyes on the road and turns up the music to a steady hum of background noise.

They drive around in silence for what seems like hours until the Impala's running low on gas and the sun is getting low and Dean reluctantly admits that he should probably get Cas back home soon. He cuts through the silence to ask where he lives so that he can drop him off.

"You can just drop me off right here actually" he says and attempts to unbuckle his seatbelt to get out of the car where it's stopped at a red light.

"What? No, Cas. I'm not just gonna drop you off on the side of the road. I can bring you home. How far are you from here?"

"Really Dean, it's fine. Right here is perfectly ok" Cas insists quietly. Dean can tell that Cas was secretly hoping that he didn't put up a fight. He was probably regretting getting into Dean's car in the first place, but Dean didn't care. Or he cared enough to not let Cas run off this way for a second time.

He tries to convince Cas to just let him give him the damn ride because it's not that big of a deal, but it doesn't matter.

"Cas I can-" he starts but is cut off by Cas quickly opening the car door, thanking him for a nice time and walking off into the darkness.


	13. Cosmic Love and Your Orbit

**A/N: **Guys you've seriously made my week with all of the follows, favorites, and reviews! I'd like to give a special thanks to Akemi723, darkphoenix2345 mhmellie, BooksandNetflix, Aliniah, Casismyfavorite, LoriLovesDestiel, porcelain ghosts, I Can Dig Elvis, and obsessionisawonderfulthing for their recent reviews. Your support really encourages me to write more for this story so hugs all around!

**Quick** **Update****:** 50 reviews guys! I seriously never thought I'd ever get that many for this story. Darkphoenix2345 gets an extra special hug tonight for being the 50th reviewer. :)

* * *

Dean's alarm clock goes off at five o'clock and he somehow manages to untangle himself from between his sheets to sleepwalk his way through his morning routine.

Halfway into brushing his teeth he can hear Sam padding through the hallway before he hears his rustle with the doorknob to gain entry.

"Dad are you using our bathroom again?" he hears Sam question from the other side of the door because Dean hadn't gotten up this early in the morning in weeks. He tries to answer that it's him and not dad around a mouth full of toothpaste, but it ends up sounding a garbled mess.

"Come on dad before I'm late" Sam complains as he continues to knock on the bathroom door. He nearly falls in between a knock as the door swings open to reveal a freshly shaved Dean. "Dean what are you doing up so early?" he questions and Dean doesn't miss the way he tries to quickly stop his mouth from hanging open at the idea that he might be coming out of his self-imposed prison.

Dean maneuvers out of the bathroom until he's stood behind a still gawking Sam. "Getting ready for school. What's it look like I'm doin'?"

"I don't know" is all Sam can manage to mutter as Dean heads back to his own bedroom to finish getting ready for school. He cursed his way through getting ready that morning because his internal clock was so out of whack that he didn't usually get out of bed until eleven-thirty but the look on Sam's face is more than worth the price of sleeping in past sunrise.

As usual, Sam is downstairs and ready to go before Dean even has a chance to put his shoes on and grab breakfast and his bitchface is back in full force for Dean making him late. Dean knows that the indignation is all kinds of false, but he and Sam keep up the show well.

"You get up before me and I'm still ready before you?" Sam asks as he shuffles off of the couch to turn off the TV.

"Quit your bitchin' Sammy" Dean says from the kitchen. He grabs a slice of toast and orange juice that Mary had made before no doubt falling back to sleep, dead to the world. "Be happy that we're not leaving when the tardy bell is ringing."

Sam rolls his eyes and grabs his backpack as he heads out of the door a few steps behind his brother.

They're actually out of the house twenty minutes too early so Dean takes the scenic route to school. Sam wants to ask him about the sudden change of heart to finally go back to school, but the air is too comfortable and the mood too relaxed to bring up things that he knows Dean has no desire to talk about.

Dean pops in another one of his ancient cassette tapes that Sam doesn't even bother learning the name of and turns the volume on high. Sam wants to complain that his brother needs to join everyone in the twenty first century, but he doesn't. It's a situation too familiar that seemed too far away to ever have again that he doesn't want to ruin it.

The pair make it to school with five minutes to spare, but Sam hops out of the car with a 'Later Dean' before running off to his homeroom. No one but his nerd little brother actually cared about being late to homeroom.

He sits in the Impala idly tapping out the last bars to "Simple Man" while the rest of the student body filed into the school. He waits another five minutes after the song ends to kill the engine and make his way to the school as well.

Every single one of his teachers talks to him that day (even evil Mr. Duncan) and Dean thinks that they've undoubtedly found out why he's been missing for the past few weeks. They had sent work home with Sam that had sat in an ever growing pile every time he'd brought a new assignment home. He'd planned to get to it, soon, sometime, maybe, but in an hour turned into tomorrow much more quickly than he'd anticipated. So, he's behind in all of his classes, but he puts little stock in the idea of failing because he knows that it's the least of the things he has to worry about with the coming new year. They all offer to let him turn the assignments in late and a few of them even knock some of the assignments off completely so he doesn't have to complete them at all. He wants to say thank you, but he doesn't because he's not really thankful deep down. It should make it feel like a shitty person to not even be able to show gratitude to people who don't have to do a damn thing for him, but he doesn't.

He's so happy to see Jo in Art that he actually tries to pay attention and get back on track, but he's apparently missed a ton. When his teacher mentions Jackson Pollock his lost puppy look is so obvious that Jo just pats him on the shoulder and promises to catch him up.

Their teacher finally hands out their quarterly assignment and Dean has to take a moment to consider the possibility that his Art teacher is on some heavily laced marijuana when he explains that they have to find a way to abstractly illustrate their feelings. It's too early in the day for this particular brand of hippie and Dean just wants to crawl away from the insanity and back into his bed. The only thing that keeps him from hauling ass back to the other side of town is the knowledge that the possibility of him running into Cas accidentally on the side of the road again is less and less likely. So he stays put and actually gives it a go at trying to figure out what he's actually feeling before he can even put it to paper later on.

He glances at the clock in the classroom to realize that it's almost lunchtime just before he hears his stomach grumble loud enough that he sees Jo fight back a smile out of his periphery.

Class ends mercifully only ten minutes later and Dean almost trips over his own feet trying to get across the school to the cafeteria before he was stuck eating the back up food.

Jo laughs from somewhere behind him. "Slow down Dean, the food's not going anywhere. Promise."

"Go on, laugh at my pain."

"It's not that I'm laughing at you"

"You're laughing with me. Yeah, yeah that makes me feel so much better. Just come on," he says as he grabs hold of her left arm and pulls her into the hallway.

Once they make it to the cafeteria Dean finds himself scanning the area first looking for Sam and when he sees him tucked towards the back sitting with a pretty blond he smirks and begins looking for signs of a tan trench coat flitting in between the crowd.

After ten minutes of no sign of him coming or going from the cafeteria he breaks down and tries to be as nonchalant as possible as he fishes for information from Jo.

"Hey Jo, do you umm…do you know that kid Castiel?" He goes for impersonal and hopes that it comes off that way.

"Definitely not a kid, but yeah why?" She asks thankfully not catching on.

"Oh well, I just have Biology with him and I figured he could help me catch back up, but I don't see him anywhere."

Jo tears off a piece of cheeseburger before she turns towards him. "Yeah, you wouldn't see him around here."

_What does that even mean?_ Dean thinks, but realizes that neither he nor Jo can read minds so he asks her. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Castiel never eats in the cafeteria. Those assholes over there made sure of that when he first started here." Jo points to the table to obvious dicks sitting towards the cafeteria door.

Dean feels something lurch in the pit of his stomach that only ever shows up when he's had to defend Sam at the thought of a bunch of jocks scaring Cas off.

"How'd they do that?"

"Honestly? I don't know the whole story, but trust that there was a whole lot of cocksucker and fucking homo thrown around. It was…It wasn't pleasant I can tell you that," Jo says between a grimace.

Dean hardly even knows Cas but he wants to go over there and rearrange those guys' faces for something that happened ages before he even knew him. "What's really got you so interested in Castiel Novak?" Jo asks with a knowing lilt to her voice that knocks him out of his musings.

"What do you mean, really? I told you why already."

"Well, you told me what you thought I wanted to hear that's for sure. Why do you really care about somebody that you barely even know? And I'm not buying the I need a tutor line." Jo wasn't stupid by a long shot and he really should've known that she'd figure out something else was up when he started questioning her about Cas.

"Don't tell anyone ok? I definitely don't need this getting back to my parents."

Jo turns toward Dean at that, her face filled with worry. "Jesus Dean, you make it seem like you killed someone." She's trying to lighten the mood but he can tell that she really is worried that something bad has happened.

"It's nothing as bad as all that. Ok maybe it kind of is? I actually do know Cas already. I may have possibly nearly run Cas down the weekend before school started."

"What the fuck?!" She yelps, forgetting that they're not alone and she can't just scream things like that out. Her eyes scan the cafeteria and when everyone seems to go back to their regularly scheduled programming she says in a normal tone, "I repeat, what the actual fuck Dean."

"Calm down Jo, I obviously didn't kill him. He's still breathing."

"But you nearly did and you didn't even tell me."

"He's the one that said that he'd rather forget about it" he defends.

"Yeah you forget about it _after_ you tell me every single detail" she says as she throws a few fries at him.

He seriously didn't stop to think that telling her any of this was priority number one but damn he knows now.

"Since we're going for full disclosure here, I guess I should tell you that it's not the only time I've seen him outside of school."

Jo looks even more surprised at that than she did at hearing that he'd almost killed a guy. "Oh, do tell."

"We went on a date. I think it was a date at least. I drove, bought him food. So yeah date I guess."

"When the hell did this happen?" She questions before the dramatics set in. "You don't tell me anything important do you Dean? It's like I don't even know you anymore" she says and holds her chest mockingly like she's holding back emotion. He laughs out loud at that because he loves that even when they fall out they manage to fall back in like nothing had ever come between them in the first place.

"Cool it Broadway," he chuckles. "It was literally like last week. But he sort of just ran off when I tried to bring him home. Same thing when I offered him a ride after the accident."

"I have to admit Dean, Castiel is sort of not umm how do I say this…. he likes to go against the grain you know. Maybe cars aren't his thing or something. I don't know."

"Yeah me either" he grouses. He's literally no closer to indirectly figuring Cas out than when he'd started.

The two of them sit in silence for all of two minutes before Jo catches him off guard and nearly knocks him over.

"Hey!" she says excitedly like she's just thought of the best idea of any thought ever had. "You can totally ask him to come with us to the fair that's rolling through this weekend."

"And who said I was going to a fair? Can't a guy get settled in before you're dragging me around town?"

"Settled in my ass Dean. I want to go and I'm not going by myself and if you're really into Cas as much as I think that you are, you're going to find him and ask him to come with us."

It was a nice thought, actually getting to spend more time with Cas. Dean wasn't delusional though. He knew that somehow he'd trigger Cas again and scare him off.

"Stop thinking so much Dean and just do it. Didn't you say you have a class with him? Ask him then and if he says no he just says no."

He knows that Jo is right. He'd never admit it to anyone but he'd gotten out of bed this morning hoping to see Castiel. He'd been a constant buzz at the back of his mind for days and when thoughts of him had gotten more persistent Dean knew that the only way to get him out of his system was to come to school to see him.

"Stop being logical" he says in response to Jo's earlier prodding.

Before Dean knows it lunch hour is over and he's once again shuffling through the halls trying to make it to class on time. He's not even close to being in the mood to being in Duncan's warpath and it's the only way he has any hope of being close enough to Cas to talk to him properly. He just hoped that by some small miracle he wasn't sitting in the front seat again.

He's disappointed to find that Cas isn't sitting in his usual seat when he makes it to class on time and he begins to panic for a second before he catches a glimpse of tan passing the doorsill right as the tardy bell rings. He has just enough time while Duncan's back is turned writing their assignment on the board to scoot forward a few seats where he'd sat in the back thinking that Cas was absent.

"Hello Dean" Cas whispers as he takes his seat at the lab table near the window.

"Hey Cas what's up?"

"Biology I suppose" he says deadpan. "But if you're asking how I'm doing I'd say I'm doing relatively ok."

"Only relatively ok?" Dean asks him.

"Today has been particularly tiresome to be honest, though quite recently things have started to look up." It takes Dean a second to realize that maybe, just maybe Cas is talking about him and that his infatuation isn't completely one sided so he takes it for the opening that it is.

Before he can get anything out though he manages to catch Duncan shooting icy death glares his way so he shuts his trap and opts instead for writing it down. It's ridiculously second grade and he feels like he should pencil in _Do you like me? Check yes or no_ but instead writes what he intended.

_Me and a friend are going to some fair that's supposed to be rolling through this weekend and I was thinking that it'd be cool if you'd come _he writes and then quickly tacks on _I had fun with you the other day _then slides the paper over to Cas.

It takes more time than he'd like before Cas actually picks up his pen and starts to write. _I don't usually go out _he sees Cas write out of the corner of his eye. It feels like a brush off and it probably is, but instead of sending the paper over with his dismissal he sees Cas hesitate and start to write again. He averts his eyes to not seem so desperately obvious. Cas sends the paper back his way after checking to make sure that their teacher isn't looking and the smile doesn't leave Dean's face for the rest of the day when he reads what Cas wrote.

_Though I don't usually enjoy large crowds, a fair does seem like it may be…fun. Let me know the time and place and I will meet you there. _

Towards the end of the page he sees that Cas has written in tiny print _I had fun with you too Dean._

Dean smiles like an idiot and wants to say that he'll pick him up, but he hasn't had the best luck with that train of thought so he just puffs out his chest with the knowledge that he's got a real, bonafide date with Castiel Novak.


	14. Ambition

**A/N:** Can I just apologize for how long it took to get this to you guys? I'll send each of you a personalized gif of the Dean/Cas hug for recompense. I'll also apologize in advance for this chapter because well Dean and Cas don't ride the teacups, you can berate me later.

* * *

Dean wakes up and thinks that it has to be a sign of bad things to come that he's panicking.

He doesn't panic, not really. He worries about the big things like whether or not his parents will have enough money to actually pay for everything that seemed to happen all at once and how he can make sure that they'll be ok without him, but he rarely sweats the minor details.

Even still, anxiety creeps up on him in waves as bliss gives way to reality and he remembers how ridiculous it all is.

He thinks about calling the whole thing off then and coming up with a lie that Cas would be too smart too believe, but Jo all but smacks him on the back of the head and tells him to grow a pair before he can royally screw things up.

It's not about just screwing things up though or it's not _just_ about that and on some level Jo gets that. But she doesn't and can't fully understand why the idea of going out with Cas is so unnerving.

Dean's never had much of a problem getting a date and though he's never actually been with a guy before Cas, he's had enough girls fall into his lap to know how the game works: take them somewhere nice, pay for everything, open doors and turn up the charm to ten, pretend to care about what they're saying, and the rest is easy.

Except, he doesn't want to pretend with Cas and that's the problem.

He doesn't want him to be the easy mistake that he can add to the list of things he tries before his time runs out and he knows that Cas is more and could be more than just a minor detail. His apprehension runs deeper than the knowledge that he doesn't want to pretend that Cas is just another girl whose pants he could've jumped into easily a year ago.

It means infinitely less about being seen in public with a guy and a hell of a lot more about the guilt that settles under his skin with every passing moment because he just knows. He knows without a doubt that if he lets himself he could fall for Cas and everything that feels right whenever he's near him and he can't shake the feeling no matter how hard he tries.

And he does try.

He tries hard to make whatever he's feeling for Cas into something that could only scratch the surface of his emotional spectrum, but it's a silly, futile attempt from the start. He knew the moment that he was trapped by one of Cas' disconcerting stares that he could lose himself in Cas if he wasn't careful and he never was the cautious type.

So Cas managed to maneuver his way into the places that Dean had tried to close off without knowing he was doing it and Dean almost aches with the knowledge that he'll have to let Cas go soon and that it's probably not fair to anyone to catch him in the first place. But he wants this, wants Cas because he just seems like the kind of guy that has a lot to say if people would just stop to listen. Like he could offer up something special to anyone willing to put in the time and Dean's not quite sure if this Cas is an image he's built up in his head or if he could be the real deal. He figures that Cas is worth the attempt at finding out though and it allows him to quell his panic enough to give Cas an actual shot.

* * *

Jo didn't lie, but she didn't exactly tell the truth about what kind of fair they were getting themselves into. Sure, there was a fair somewhere in the grand scheme of chaos that was set up to span an entire neighborhood, but it was only a small portion of a much larger town festival.

Apparently Lawrence had decided that they were in need of a little more crazy since he'd left and had come together to set up a festival that would put any traveling carnival to shame.

They'd had to get Mary to drop them off, but only under the stipulation that they take Sam and the new girl, who he'd found out is named Jess, because they also wanted to go.

Dean had never had a problem with Sam tagging along wherever he went and he knew he would branch off on his own as soon as he got there, but he wasn't sure that he was ready for his brother or his family for that matter, to find out about Cas. He'd never really had many things for himself and now his life was an open book for doctors to see, for support group to pick apart and he just wanted to keep this one thing close. He wanted to have Cas to himself for as long as he could but there was no getting around having to bring Sam along if he didn't want to end up paying 30 bucks for the rip off that was city parking.

Mary drops them off a couple of blocks back because it was a near impossibility to get them any closer without getting stuck in what was shaping up to be hour long traffic so they have to walk twenty minutes before they make it to the entrance. As they walk Dean gets a cavity inducing dose of Sam and Jess's young love and he wonders if he was ever that way with Lisa or with Cassie-though he doesn't think that anyone could top Sam when he sees the blush that spreads across his neck when Jess kisses his cheek. It's pretty sickening, really.

As soon as they buy their wrist bands and step foot in the gates, Sam and Jess head off on their own and Dean's a little grateful that his little brother has managed to step out of his shadow at just the right time.

Dean's not sure what he was expecting, but the festival is a little overwhelming at first and it takes Dean by surprise that there were so many people in his seemingly tiny town.

There were at least four sectioned off corners that he'd seen so far that house the cultures of different nationalities that apparently lived in Lawrence and crowds filed in by the stage to see the up and coming bands and a few small town favorites that had gotten quite a following by playing at other local events.

He and Jo walk about aimlessly for what seems like ages, gravel crunching beneath their feet and fingers a little numb even with gloves. As they travel the grounds they try to stay a safe distance toward the middle of the paths to avoid being pestered by the booth attendants of the local shops trying to pedal their product, but they get sucked in anyway. Jo ends up spending what Dean thinks is a ridiculous amount of money on jewelry that'll probably break within the week, but doesn't let on and lets her think that she got a good deal.

After exploring the place scattered between two story houses and prominent business they decide to follow the delicious smell of pasta wafting through the air from Little Italy. They both get a jumbo bowl of the shrimp linguini to stuff their faces with and meander through the throngs of people as they eat and laugh at the questionably dressed people passing by.

It doesn't take long before he spots Cas' profile against the backdrop of the Italian flag fluttering behind him as a particularly strong gust of wind shoots kicks up the dust and debris around them.

He's sitting at one of the restaurants main tables that they'd had set up looking for all the world like a puppy who'd just lost the only owner he'd ever had. Dean found himself fighting the urge to run over to him and just leave the place because he probably was not exaggerating about his lack of experiences with large crowds and it doesn't look like he's enjoying the people constantly bumping into him to make their way through the festival.

"Jo!" he screams over the crowd to get her attention. "I see Cas so I'm gonna go over there for a minute. Mind waiting for me?"

She points to her ears in a universal sign of not being able to hear so he grabs her head and directs it to the same line of sight so that she can see Cas sitting alone, obviously having the same idea as Dean and getting there a bit early.

Jo's eyes widen marginally in understanding and she shakes her head and yells at him to go get his man before someone else scoops him up.

"Don't go off to far," he tells her. "I'll never find you again in this crowd."

"I'll be over by the rides, _dad_. You can find me over there if you're so worried about me."

"You sure you'll be ok by yourself?" he asks because he knows the kind of jerks that live in this town and he doesn't exactly feel comfortable leaving Jo by herself.

He knows that she probably won't have a problem and only feels slightly better when she reassures him that he can go off and have some time with Cas. "I'll be fine Dean. Go have fun."

He searches her face for a moment to make sure that she's ok with essentially being ditched and when he finds no hints of her objection says, "Ok, I'll meet you over there in a little bit, keep your phone on and I'll text you when we're on our way."

She yells out an ok over the noise and maneuvers through the crowd to get to the other side of the festival towards the carnival rides.

Dean turns to head towards Cas and possibly surprise him, but he's not all that surprised himself to find that Cas has already spotted him.

He waves Dean over to his table and as the November air nips at his extremities, he thinks that Cas probably has the right idea in wearing his same reliable trench coat to keep warm.

"Hey" he says as he plops himself into a seat across from Cas. It probably isn't the best idea though because even after three months he still hasn't gotten used to the discomfited feeling he gets whenever Cas trains his eyes on him. He's always looking as if he sees something that Dean doesn't see or as if he can see all of the things that Dean's not quite ready to tell him just yet.

"Hello Dean, you're here early" Cas greets and takes a sip of the delicious fair lemonade that's always sweet enough to rot your teeth in an instant.

Dean's eyes track the movement of Cas' lips along the expanse of the straw and he finds himself unable to tear his eyes away no matter how much his body is screaming _Abort! Abort!_ _We're in public you dick!_

He forgets the crowds though, forgets that there's anyone else beside him and Cas sitting at a table that could easily be a table in the corner of a dimly lit restaurant for all that either of them are paying attention to the outside world.

Cas turns his eyes back on him from the fascination that is his straw and quirks his head at the way Dean's eyes have gone slightly dark before asking the question that seems to be obligatory every time they're together.

"Are you ok Dean?" he asks and Dean's starting to think that maybe Cas knows all too well that he's not ok and that he does things to Dean every time he opens his mouth, looks at him, _exists._

The question once again manages to reflexively snap Dean out of his honestly creepy staring. "I'm great actually. This place has kind of got me thrown off balance to be honest, I had no idea that so many people came out to this thing."

"I assumed you knew about it. It's all I've heard anyone talk about in school for weeks."

"Yeah, well they talked about, but no one actually _talked_ about it ya know? I'd have asked you to a movie or something if I'd have known that we'd probably have to wait an hour just to get on the Ferris Wheel."

"I'll admit that this isn't really someplace that I typically come to, but if you want to stay we can enjoy standing in long lines together" Cas says as his right hand begins to track the condensation along the length of his lemonade cup. If Dean didn't know better he'd swear that Cas knew exactly what he was doing to him, but not Cas. He wouldn't know the first thing about flirting and purposely making a guy want to jump him. He was the kind of guy you kind of just fell into naturally without the normal muss and fuss of normal dating.

"It's up to you, Cas. Really, but I honestly don't feel like waiting forever just to be on a ride for five minutes."

It's true that he'd rather be anywhere but waiting in line for crappy rides that stopped as soon as he started enjoying it, but he does feel a little guilty. They've been here maybe an hour and a half tops and he's already trying to find an out to ditch Jo. It's her own fault for not telling him about this place because though to most people it's like the holy land of carnivals, he's already had his fill and he's more than sure that Cas has too.

Cas seems to think it over for a moment before agreeing that he'd much rather be somewhere, anywhere else before Dean texts Jo.

_Are you still by the rides?-Dean _

It takes her a few minutes before she texts back.

_Yeah, I met up with a few friends and we're in line for the teacups. Don't judge us. - Jo _

He laughs out loud for a moment because he's so going to give her so much shit about it and she knows it.

_Who me? I don't judge, but I do need you to promise not to be mad at me in the next minute. - Dean _

_Don't tell me you actually managed to kill Cas off this time? -Jo_

He looks up to see Cas staring at him from across the table and realizes that he's probably smiling a little too much and too big and giving the all around wrong impression that he's talking to someone else he'd rather be with.

He doesn't acknowledge it though because acknowledging it would make him seem guilty when he's not so he just goes back to his messages and taps out a reply to Jo.

_Ha. Ha. He's still alive, but we're gonna get outta here. Too many ppl, too much noise. Probably gonna catch a movie or something.-Dean_

_Or something? Please fill me in the or something tomorrow and I'll forgive you for abandoning me here.-Jo_

_No and you'll forgive me anyway. See you tomorrow.-D_

He turns his phone off and turns to Cas who seems to have found a thread in the tablecloth particularly interesting.

"So where are we off to" he says and Cas' head pops up when he realizes he's being spoken to. "It's pretty early so if you did wanna go to a movie it'll be empty and we can get the good seats."

Before he can answer, Cas gets a slight case of the shivers as if his body is finally registering the cold and Dean thinks of taking him back home and warming him with tangled limbs but pushes the thought into the recesses of his brain because he doesn't want to jump the gun and ruin everything with Cas before it even begins.

"I don't really go to the movies often so I'm not sure what would be playing" Cas says as he gets up from his seat to tighten the belt on his trench coat and pulls out gloves from the pockets. It seems as though there are an infinite number of things that Cas doesn't do or doesn't do often and Dean finds that he wants to know them all.

There aren't really many options in a place like Lawrence and Dean gets a slight case of nerves because he doesn't want Cas to get the wrong idea because of what he's about to suggest. For the first time in his life he doesn't actually want to get up to anything and he really does just want to hang out with Cas, no strings attached.

"Ummm, we could go back to my house. If—if that's not…weird" he settles on because it does seem a little weird and maybe like he planned this all along and he realizes that he doesn't want Cas to think that of him.

Cas doesn't seem offended though or doesn't show that he thinks Dean is a major creeper who only wants to get into his pants and instead grabs his cup off of the table.

He strides over to the trash bin before turning back towards Dean and in a voice that makes the very bottom of Dean's spine tingle says "Lead the way."

* * *

**A/N:** Another tiny note here: this is probably not the best chapter update, but don't feel the need to be gentle about it in your reviews! Honest critiques are welcome here. :)


	15. Of Angels and Angles

**A/N:** Thank you for reviewing you lovely, lovely people!

* * *

Dean makes sure to text Sam to let him know that he's leaving earlier than originally intended and heads over to the nearest bus stop to leave the festival behind.

Cas knows exactly which busses to take to get them close enough to Dean's house like he's been doing it for a while and he's intimately acquainted with the ins and outs of bus travel. Dean thinks that this just may be the case because Cas finds the same seating on each of the three busses that it takes to make it to their final destination like it's some special sort of seat that he has to sit in every time he rides the bus. The first time around, Dean attempts to take the back seat because it's somehow always better no matter which bus you ride but Cas won't have it. He makes it perfectly clear where he wants to sit and that he's not moving when he finds the seat directly in the middle of the bus towards the right window and plants himself in it. The first time it's a little strange, but the second and third time Dean just goes with it, as he seems to be doing a lot more with Cas.

It takes them almost two hours of bus changes and walking to make it back to the house, but Dean finds that he doesn't mind. Though Cas doesn't speak much to fill the silence it's not wholly uncomfortable and he thinks he gets ample compensation with the low timber of Cas' laugh as they have to run the rest of the way home when rain cold enough to turn the tips of their ears into icicles starts to fall.

Dean nearly trips over his own feet and Cas laughs even louder at that and Dean wants to actually fall just to see if he could keep coaxing the sound from his throat.

They kick off their shoes and push into the relative warmth of his house as he belatedly hopes that the rain doesn't reach the other side of town and washes out the festival.

Dean drops the keys in the bowl by the door and begins stripping off the wet clothes plastered to his body before he notices that Cas hasn't started following him.

He turns to see Cas still standing by the door as if waiting for verbal permission to fully enter the house.

"You can come in ya know" Dean says and peels off his his flannel before getting to work on his socks that managed to get wet as he and Cas sloshed through a few puddles.

Cas takes the invitation and carefully avoids the rugs so that he doesn't get them sopping wet and meets Dean where he's standing near the near the living room couch. He almost immediately notices the measurements on the wall when Dean flicks on the living room light and smiles a little when he realizes the recent measurements that show how much Sam has surpassed Dean in height.

He continues to graze his fingers across the walls and his eyes flit everywhere as if he's trying to take it all in. "You have a lovely home Dean."

"Thanks, man. My mom would love you right now if she heard you say that. She's put a lot of work into keeping it nice."

Dean's almost completely out of his wet clothes and is down to his t-shirt before he tells Cas that he's going to run upstairs to grab him some dry clothes so that he doesn't catch a cold. He hurries to his room to strip out of the last remaining wet clothes and clambers back down the stairs to find Cas waiting in the same spot that he left him.

"Here you go" he says as he hands Cas the t-shirt and pajama bottoms. "They're probably a little too big but I guess they'll work until I can get your other ones dry."

"Thank you Dean" Cas responds and takes the proffered clothes before Dean points him in the direction of the downstairs bathroom to get changed.

While Cas undresses-and Dean's decidedly _not_ thinking about Cas undressing-he hunts through their massive cabinet selection of DVDs to find something suitable to watch, but only comes out with the classics like Star Wars and Indiana Jones. He stays away from the romantic comedies that his mom always forgets to put back in her own cabinet and flips through a few more movies before Cas comes out of the bathroom.

He doesn't have to wait long though and nearly hits his head on the cabinet door when he hears Cas cough from somewhere behind him to get his attention.

"Can you point me in the direction of your laundry room? I don't want my clothes to drip on anything." Dean's really going to have to get used to Cas talking like he walked out of the 1800s, clothes to match.

"I'll take em. Why don't you look through the movies I grabbed and see if there are any that you like or you can hunt through that massive ass cabinet over there and see if you can find anything. I'll be back in a minute."

Dean passes through the kitchen to get to the laundry room, silently cataloguing what they have in their fridge that can be heated up in enough time so that neither of them starves. He dumps the clothes in the dryer and puts it on delicate so that he doesn't shrink any of Cas' clothes and also so that Cas is stuck with him a little bit longer than he would've originally been had his clothes not been soaked through.

The only thing that they have that doesn't require actual cooking is Tostino's pizza rolls so Dean grabs them from the freezer and puts them on before grabbing a few glasses and three different types of soda in case Cas does want some and a bottle of water if he doesn't.

The pasta from the fair obviously did nothing to sate his appetite for very long because the smell of the pizza rolls coming in from the kitchen sounds like it's calling to him and his stomach responds loudly enough to alert Cas to his presence behind him.

"I put on an Indiana Jones film since it seemed to be the most interesting from the movie cover."

"What, no Star Wars?" Dean asks and holds out the bottle of water for Cas who takes it graciously.

"My brother watched the films over a hundred times when we were younger and though visually stunning, I found the plot to be a bit convoluted and the dialogue was often times very clichéd."

It's Dean's turn to do the curious head tilt because he's finding it a little difficult to process the words that just came out of Cas' mouth.

"So what you're saying is that you hate me?" Dean jokes, but the joke falls flat because Cas just stares at him long and hard and says, "I could never hate you Dean."

Dean's palms seem to gain a layer of sweat almost instantaneously and he tries uselessly to wipe away the telltale signs of his own nerves. He averts his eyes anywhere but Cas, hoping that if he doesn't look at his face he won't be able to picture just how blue his eyes are or the way his lips quirk up whenever he finds something even remotely pleasing.

It's no big shocker that it doesn't work though and he just gives up the fight and turns to see Cas still staring at him. He wants to ask Cas why he stares, what the hell he's looking for or what he's actually seeing when he looks at him like that, but settles on the world's cheesiest compliment.

"You-you have really nice eyes Cas" he says and silently prays to a god that he's not so sure exists that he'll open a Dean Winchester sized hole so that he can jump into it in the next five seconds or maybe that he'll just sew his lips closed.

Cas doesn't really help Dean's desire to run from the embarrassment and he should learn to take a compliment because his confused response of "I have average colored eyes" only makes Dean beg a little bit harder for that whole to pop up sooner.

Somehow Dean manages to press on because for some reason he desperately needs Cas to understand what he does to him with a singular glance.

He shifts his body and slightly closes the gap so that he can impress his next point to Cas. "No Cas, you don't get it. You have _really_ nice eyes." He shifts a bit closer. "Like when you look at me sometimes I feel like you might see my soul or something." His hands twitch with the aborted motion to touch where he knows he shouldn't.

"You think too highly of me Dean" Cas deflects. He doesn't like compliments or _maybe he doesn't like them from you_ the treacherous part of his brain supplies.

"And maybe you don't think high enough of yourself" Dean shoots back and it comes out with a little more bite than he intended.

"Don't act like you know me Dean from a few moments together in class and a few glances. Don't act like you know me" he repeats.

"Then let me get to know you Cas. You have no idea how badly I've wanted to just do that since I first met you. So just let me tell you this one nice thing ok? Let me say it without you saying that I'm wrong."

He can feel the hesitance rolling off of Cas in waves, his reluctance to have someone tell him something as simple as he's beautiful and Dean tries hard not to stop and wonder who's never told him such a glaringly obvious truth.

"But I'm not-" he tries and Dean's twitchy hand finally rebels and comes up to put a finger over Cas' mouth.

"Stop it Cas, ok? I'm gonna tell you something and all I want is for you to listen. Can you do that?" Cas shakes his head at first but Dean stands his ground until he gets the nod he's looking for. "Cas, you have the bluest eyes I've ever seen and sometimes you make me feel-sometimes I'm so uncomfortable when I'm near you and I don't know what to do when I'm on the end of one of those stares. But, don't let anyone tell you that they aren't nice Cas. _Okay_?" He questions and he tries to put as much emphasis on his last words as possible so that Cas understands that he's not bullshitting.

He doesn't really understand why the need to reassure Cas is so strong but it helps him hold firm and not look away when Cas turns the dial up and Dean can practically feel the heat of his gaze boring into him.

He feels as if he's being put through some kind of test and maybe he is. Maybe Cas is searching his face for some hint of deception, but the test is cut short by the dinging sound of the oven, alerting him to the pizza rolls.

"Be right back Cas" he says and jumps over the back of the couch to open the oven before the rolls turn into burnt crisps. He dumps them all in a bowl and figures that it wouldn't hurt for them to share and heads down the hall back to the living room.

* * *

Three hours, two movies, and countless bottles of water and soda cans later, Dean's left side is weighed down where Cas has pressed himself up against it. He's not sure how they ended up in the position that they're in, but no matter how sore he's gotten from the stiff position he doesn't want to move for fear of crashing the fantasy.

Dean learns that Cas actually enjoys romantic comedies when after the Indiana Jones film goes off he manages to find his mom's copy of "The Ugly Truth" where he thought he'd hid it thoroughly.

His disdain for the genre doesn't change because of Cas, but he doesn't object too strongly when certain parts make Cas smile and press against him even closer. If it were Sammy he'd have called him a giant girl for actually liking a Katherine Heigl movie.

Sleep sneaks up on him and before Dean can fight the feeling a yawn escapes and his body goes to stretch out on instinct. He hates how tired his illness has made him and how it makes his entire body feel sluggish like he can't quite keep up.

"I can't bring you home right now Cas and I don't think I'll be able to stay up much longer" he says between another powerful yawn.

"It's ok Dean, I don't mind waiting here while you sleep for a bit."

"Are you sure Cas? You're kind of my guest and all and it's kind of a shit thing to do to just fall asleep like you're not here."

"Would my not being ok with it work to keep you awake any longer?" Cas questions and well he does have a point. Dean doesn't think that he could keep his eyes open any longer if he tried.

"Probably not" he says and Cas un-tucks himself from where he's plastered against Dean so that he can get more comfortable. "I'm only gonna be out for like 30 minutes, maybe 45. Wake me up if I'm out for longer than that ok? I'll never be able to get to sleep tonight if I sleep the whole day through."

He shifts so that his head is resting on the right armrest and gives Cas one more questioning glance before he answers with a "Sure, I'll wake you Dean."

It's all the confirmation Dean needs before he blacks out and ceases to acknowledge the world at large, but it's too soon because he doesn't feel the movement near his legs as Cas gets up and moves off of the couch.

Cas brushes his hand along the contours of Dean's face, mapping it so that if he never gets another chance he can always unlock the memory from his personal storage.

"I'm going to fall in love with you Dean Winchester" he says. "And I think it'll be as easy as breathing for me. All I ask is that even if you don't feel the same way, you'll let me have this, that you'll let me love you."

He waits a few moments and his hand lingers as if it doesn't want to be stripped away before he gets up to find reclaim his space on the end opposite of the couch.

For the first time since they've met, he doesn't run out on Dean. He's perfectly content with where he is right now.


	16. How My Heart Behaves

**A/N**: Hi new followers and reviewers. Can I just express my love for you without seeming creepy? Yes?! Ok good because I was gonna do it anyway. And to my loyal readers who always review thanks so much. You're the best!

* * *

Cas lets Dean sleep much longer than he'd wanted, but stays the entire time alternating between watching another film and watching Dean until he eventually wakes up from the scrutiny. While he was asleep Cas' clothes had dried and he had already changed back into them and was up and ready to go before the night took over.

Dean doesn't offer to drive him anywhere because he knows that he'd be turned down, but instead just walks Cas to the corner for his own peace of mind.

John and Mary show up first from what he figured was a much-needed day out seemingly exhausted and ready to fall into their bed. Dean tells them that he'd eaten more than enough at the fair-not mentioning that he'd brought someone back home-and that they didn't need to cook anything for him. Mary had sagged with relief and marched upstairs where she no doubt collapsed within the five minutes.

John had lingered downstairs for a bit, grabbing a beer and sitting down on the edge of the couch content to watch whatever Dean had on.

Dean didn't expect conversation as per usual with his dad so they sat in silence for a while with only the noise of Dr. Sexy in the background to fill the silence.

Sam comes crashing through the door about an hour later, face flushed and a grin splitting his face from ear to ear.

John, having waited around to make sure that Sam made it home at decent hour, grabs his empty beer can off the table and heads to the kitchen to throw it out and head to bed early with Mary.

"Had a good time Sammy?" Dean asks and can't help wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Sam. He could tell by the look on his face that he and Jessica had probably been trying to suck each other's tonsils out, which would explain why he was 30 minutes later than what he said he would be when he called.

"Yeah, the fair was fun actually. Didn't really think it'd be an all day thing but Jess saw some of her friends and we all just kind of hung out for the rest of the day there." Sam shucks off his coat and shoes and hops over the couch.

"The rain didn't catch you guys, huh?" Dean asks when he's settled, gangly limbs sprawled out in front of him.

"What rain?" Sam questions with a raised eyebrow. "It was cold that's for sure but there definitely wasn't any rain."

"I came home a little early and it was pouring. My clothes got soaked straight through" he says, turning his attention back towards the TV. Dr. Sexy finally ends with him saving a stabbing victim's life with a paper clip and before Dean can get engrossed in another episode, Sam grabs the remote from the middle of the couch to switch it to National Geographic to watch some special on the Titanic. "Hey! I was watching that bitch" Dean says and tries to grab remote from Sam's outstretched hand.

"I'm not going to sit here while you fangirl over this ridiculous show Dean. Did we not just watch the same thing? That episode was total crap."

"Dr. Sexy is a world renowned doctor who saves lives Sam!" Dean tries a few more times to grab the remote but he knows there's no wrestling it away from Sam. He hated to admit it, but not only had Sam surpassed him in size but he'd gotten freakishly strong over the summer too.

"Ok" Sam retorts mockingly "but I'm just going to watch this anyway so I don't lose a steady stream of brain cells."

"Whatever" Dean concedes and just suffers through the same special that he's seen of the Titanic for what seems like the hundredth time.

Dean's sneaking suspicion that his brother is way smarter than he's ever given him credit for gets confirmed at about the same time pictures of people who died on the Titanic start flashing across the screen.

"So how was your date?" he asks innocently-a little too innocently to be anything but suggestive.

"Don't know what you're talkin' about. I just hung out with Jo and then headed home early. Guess fairs just aren't my thing."

As he says he looks over to see Sam's _I know something you don't think I know _look planted firmly on his face.

"Knock it off Sam."

"Knock what off Dean?"

"The look" he gestures wildly at Sam. "You've got that stupid look on your face."

"This is just my face Dean and I'm sure that I don't know what you're talking about" he says and if Dean weren't so tired he'd seriously smack Sam right then and there.

"Ok, out with it. What do you know?"

The smirk on Sam's face grows into a full on grin. "Well I know that I saw you leaving the fair. Not alone for one thing. And with a guy for another."

"Oh…well you got me there" Dean says. There's no use in trying to deny it. He doesn't actually want to deny Cas anyway.

"So who is he? Does he go to our school? How long have you been seeing him? Better yet, since when are you even gay?"

"Woah, woah, _breathe_ Sammy. _Breathe. _I know you can be a big girl about these kinds of things, but just calm down."Dean holds his hands out in a placating but all together patronizing gesture.

"Shut up, jerk. Seriously, why haven't I ever seen him around before? You never used to be shy about bringing people home and it isn't like mom or dad would care who you brought home."

"I'm not shy, bitch. Cas is just…complicated."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Complicated? That's the last thing you need right now."

"He's not complicated in a bad way. Just in an I don't know anything about him and neither does anyone else kind of way. He's cool though. Weird but cool."

"You like him a lot don't you?" Sam questions bluntly.

"What makes you say that?"

"Eh, I don't know. Probably because of how your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when you talked about him just now."

Dean couldn't deny it. He knew exactly what Sam was talking about because Jo had already called him on it when she pestered him for information about what had happened when he asked Cas to the fair.

"He's not your average person, but yeah I like him. A lot I guess."

It was finally out in the open to at least one of his family members, but just saying the words made Dean feel like he was starting to grow lady parts. He and Sam were bound to be two seconds away from running upstairs to listen to old Britney Spears albums and talk about their feelings.

"And that's enough about my love life and feelings. So let's just watch them re-sink the Titanic in peace, ok?"

Sam drops the subject and turns to finish watching the special though he wants to harass Dean about it some more. He's truly happy for his brother but he wants to find out the extent of his feeling for this Cas guy-even though it's none of his business, he knows-but Dean and this guy could really get hurt in the long run.

Still, he knows that it isn't his place, so he doesn't attempt to burst his brother's bubble. Instead he lets the slow smile that's formed across Dean's face spread and settle for the rest of the night.

* * *

Dean doesn't go to church with his family on Sunday mornings. It's like some sort of unspoken agreement that he and God are just not on the best of terms and so he doesn't go to ruin everyone else's mood.

He loves Sundays because it's the only day that he knows for certain no one bothers him or forces him to do chores before he's ready to leave the bed.

That's why the insistent knocking on his front door startles him enough to roll face first on the floor before he regains his balance enough to run down the stairs to tell off whoever didn't get the memo on politeness. The insistence with which they keep knocking on the door has Dean nearly seething by the time he makes it to the door and he's ready to punch the asshat who won't even give him a chance to open the door properly.

"What the hell-" he starts but stops abruptly when he sees a shivering Cas standing on the other side of the door. The rain from yesterday was apparently a sign of much colder temperatures because he sees the snow gently falling behind Cas and the already melting snow sitting on his collar.

"Cas what are you even doing here?" he says and pulls Cas in the door before he freezes to death.

"I was in the neighborhood?" he says but it comes out as more of a question and Dean can already tell that Cas is an awful liar.

"Yeah I bet. You really need to get a cell phone. You could've called to wake me up instead of freezing your ass off on my porch."

He goes to help Cas out of his trenchcoat-as if he couldn't do it himself-and once he's gotten it off he heads to the hallway to turn the heat up to 80 for awhile to knock the chill off of Cas' skin.

"I would get a cell phone, but I don't find them very useful" Cas says back and leans down to pull off his shoes.

"Who are you?" Dean asks incredulously. "What kind of person doesn't like cell phones?"

"They're like little honing devices. I don't want anyone triangulating the signal to find me" he says and Dean wishes that he could read Cas because he's only half sure that he meant that as a joke.

"You've been watching too many procedural cop shows Cas." He wants to ask him again why he's out walking in the snow but knows that he won't get a straight answer from Cas if he does. He goes to the kitchen to warm up some hot chocolate, with marshmallows, and pulls out a chair for Cas who's had the good sense to follow him without question this time around.

Cas doesn't take his seat right away. He comes up to stand beside Dean as he fiddles with the dishwasher to get fresh cups. "I came because I wanted to see you" he says. There it is. In the open. No question or confusion about where either of them things this dancing around each other is going.

Cas is blunt, Dean knows that. But somehow he wasn't expecting Cas to give him the answer that he was really hoping for.

He flounders like a fish out of water for a few moments before responding. "Really?"

Cas steps closer. "You ask it as if it's so hard to believe that someone would want to see you Dean."

"It shouldn't be" he continues when Dean doesn't say anything back, the cups long forgotten in favor of staring at Cas. "Because I've decided that you're worth keeping."

Cas' hand comes up to rest on Dean's cheek, the touch searing through his skin like a brand. Right then, Dean wants to tell Cas every mushy thing that only fourteen-year-old girls say but manages to retain a little of his manhood in favor of leaning closer to Cas. He stops when Cas' lips are just a touch away, breathing his air, feeling it warm his face like a southern summer. Cas' eyes waver only slightly, taking in the flush slowly rising up Dean's neck before being the one to finally close the distance between them.

Dean had dreamt and woken up achingly hard before imagining Cas' mouth on him, but not even his hormone-riddled brain could do the real thing justice. He'd expected a chaste kiss, simple, no tongue and leaving as much to his imagination as the man himself always does. It wasn't what he got though. Cas kissed with a kind of abandon that almost belied the fact that he'd never done this before. It was a kiss that held no reservations and sucked all the oxygen from Dean's lungs with the sheer intensity of it.

Dean reaches back, scrambling for something, anything to ground him before his legs give way and can't hold him up anymore. He grabbed hold of the countertop as Cas pushed insistently against him as if trying to crawl inside him and never come out.

When Cas' hands come up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently but with enough force to drag a moan out of his mouth he forgets why he'd even came into the kitchen. And when Cas' tongue works its way into mouth, sliding alongside his own he forgets the year his car was made.

Cas' hips rolls instinctively like he was made to fit with Dean, the key to a lock he'd been waiting to open his whole life it seemed. His knee presses against Dean's legs demanding entrance and Dean gives it without question, smoothly opening up and giving in to Cas. The better angle allows the roll of Cas' hips to reach every nerve ending sending his body into high alert and if Cas didn't stop soon it was going to start thinking that sex was on the horizon. Dean arches into the touch anyway, desperate to feel friction, to feel Cas as close as their clothed bodies would allow.

He could go on like this forever he thinks, tasting Cas, mapping every inch of his skin with his fingertips, but something seems to snap Cas out of their reverie and he pulls back, only slightly, mouth only a hair away from Dean's. His eyes slip closed and he takes in a deep shuddering breath to try and gain some semblance of control, but Dean takes the opportunity to suck Cas' spit slick lip into his mouth. Cas grabs hold of Dean's hip and squeezes hard enough to leave bruises before pulling away again.

This time he doesn't try to get control and maybe he realizes that he won't get it in this moment because he opens his eyes and the stare that he levels Dean with holds so many promises of what could be, maybe, later that he wants to pull Cas up the stairs to his room and never leave.

"I-I think that maybe we should leave your kitchen" he pants out. He attempts to disentangle himself from Dean where his leg is still pressed against his crotch.

"Are you sure about that?" Dean questions while peppering kisses along his cheeks, his nose, his jawline.

Cas' hand presses tighter into Dean's hip and Dean can tell that his hands are screaming _No!_ but "Yes" still manages to escape his throat. "Yes, I think that-that maybe this is—"

"This is what Cas" Dean teases.

"This is so good" Cas says "So good. But I think we should stop." The seriousness in his tone manages to drown Dean in reality and his senses struggle to come back to him. He takes Cas' face in his hands and just barely stops himself from attacking his mouth again before relenting and agreeing that maybe they were getting a little out of hand, too fast, and too soon.

"We can go as slow as you want Cas or we don't have to go at all" Dean says as his thumb traces lazy lines along Cas' jaw. "How about I make that hot chocolate instead?" he asks and Cas' answering smile is enough to instantly melt all of the snow currently falling at his doorstep.

"Yeah, I think I'd like that."


	17. I Found A Boy

**A/N: **Umm, hi guys. I hope you don't hate me for how long it took to get this chapter to you. Life got extremely hectic and if you know anything about how crazy it gets around state testing time you'd understand. I do hope you enjoy this chapter though. I hope to be back to weekly regular updates. So look for the next chapter come Saturday or Sunday.

* * *

Cas leaves the house before his family makes their way back home and Dean is almost disappointed. He was hoping in the back of his mind that it'd give him the perfect opportunity to introduce Cas to his parents, but as usual timing was never on his side. He scrambles up from the couch in an attempt to clean up some of the mess he and Cas had made in the living room when he hears the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling into the driveway. He gets about halfway through throwing away the mounds of snack bags (mostly his) before the key is turning into the lock and Mary is walking into the foyer in her Sunday best with John following closely behind.

John takes one look at the state of the living room before a low whistle erupts and he hangs his coat in the hall.

He walks the few feet into the room to get a better look and Dean looks on almost sheepish at the raised eyebrow he glances out of the corner of his eye. "Decided to have a party while we were gone?"

Mary walks into the room and without question begins to help Dean put away the mess that he and Cas hadn't even realized they were making over the crappy early Sunday morning t.v. programming.

"I got hungry and I woke up last night and ate mom's leftovers so there was nothing but junk left." He shrugs and continues his cleaning and then heads over to the kitchen where he immediately stops dead in his tracks. He hadn't remembered to move the evidence of Cas' visit out of the kitchen and there really wasn't any explanation for why there were two separate coffee mugs on opposite ends of the kitchen table. He doesn't even get a chance to get his bearings before Mary is coming up behind him and he can sense the moment she realizes that Dean had a party for two.

He wordlessly dumps the trash into the bin and then heads over to the table to grab the two mugs and put them into the sink, but Mary's hand catches his just as he's about to pick up Cas' half full mug. He already knows the speech that he's going to get, has gotten it plenty of times before while dating Lisa. He should've known that his mom, staunch believer in trying to contain the normalcy wasn't going to change even under these circumstances.

"You know better than to bring someone here without permission" she chides, but Dean can tell that there isn't any real heat behind her words.

He doesn't respond with an agreement because he does know. But how was he expected to turn away a drenched Cas in the shivering cold? There was no way he'd have been able to forgive himself, knowing that Cas was caught in the hard rain. He doesn't even think about all of the other reasons why he'd never turn Cas away if he shown up on his doorstep unannounced under different circumstances.

Mary doesn't miss a beat though, just goes over to the sink and runs water to start on the few dishes that were left in the sink overnight, adding the two mugs to the bunch. Dean instinctively follows her, like so many times before as a kid. She'd always called him her little helper when he would come into the kitchen to help her clean or stir the pots, any little excuse to be close to his mom.

They fall into a slight routine as she washes the plates clean and hands them to Dean for drying and before he knows it everything's put back to order, in its rightful place. She dries her hands on the side towel hanging above the sink and wordlessly pulls her favorite tea from the cupboards and sets the water on the stove to boil.

Dean already knows the talk is coming so he heads over to the kitchen table, pulls out a chair for Mary before rounding it to pull one out for himself. Before she sits, Mary quickly makes him a PB&J sandwich with the crusts cut off (because he's a child) and sets it in front of him. He knows her tricks by now, plying him with food because he's more open and relaxed on a full belly, but it isn't even needed. He'd wanted to tell his mom about Cas for so long that he thought that he might explode with it and he wants to get it over with before Cas gets it in his head that he's ashamed to tell his parents about him.

He scarfs down the sandwich in a few quick bites while Mary looks on with a look of such fond exasperation that his lips can't help but turn up in the makings of a signature smile.

"So" she begins and ahhhh he thinks, _that's _where Sam got his excellent conversation starters from.

"So?" he questions right back trying to draw it out if for no other reason than to be a little difficult.

He licks the peanut butter that managed to smear across his fingers as he hears John shuffling around in the living room. No doubt kicking off his shoes and relaxing into his recliner for a Sunday marathon of _In the Heat of the Night_ on a station that no one on the planet but him even watches.

Mary's voice snaps him back from his quickly wandering thoughts. "So who is she? And don't tell me it's that Lisa girl again" she says and Dean can't help but chuckle at the tiny note of annoyance hidden under the pleasantries. He wonders if that's the real reason that she wants to have this conversation and not the fact that he had anyone in the house at all as it was no secret that his mom wasn't fond of Lisa, especially not after the whole Luke incident.

"_Ha_!" he finally says back. "Mom you know that when I ended things with Lisa that that was a done deal. Plus, I haven't even seen her since I started back up at school. I'm starting to think that she transferred schools or something. I mean she was good at avoidance, but not _that _good."

Mary huffs out a laugh at that and Dean watches as her eyes go impossibly soft. He can only imagine the thoughts running through her head right then and he doesn't even want to begin to acknowledge the ones milling in there about why he shouldn't be getting involved with someone new. She doesn't voice any such concerns though and Dean only feels slightly guilty at thinking the worst at that moment.

Mary's chin falls into the palm of her hand as she comes to rest her elbow on the tabletop. "A new girl then?" she hedges.

"Not exactly" he says and really hopes that his mom takes the tiny hint and runs with it. He knows that a lot of kids, some that he's known in passing at school even, have had a shit storm come down on them for even suggesting that they liked the same sex. And even though in the back of his mind Dean knows that in the grand scheme of things it should be at the bottom of his list of priorities, there's still a certain sense of anxiety that comes with what feels like exposing himself as this whole other person that his family had no idea about. It sets the hairs on the back of his neck on edge with the very thought of letting it come to the surface.

"Is it Cassie, then?" she tries again and Dean's so absolutely wrapped up in how close, but so far off base his mom is that laughter erupts out of him unbidden.

"God no, mom. I haven't even talked to Cassie since we were sophomores" he responds between a few extra chuckles that he can't manage to hold in.

"Well unless you managed to gain a twin that I'm unaware of that eats almost as much as you do, there's a girl involved in here somewhere."

It's then that Dean figures he's dragged this out far longer than necessary and decides to just rip the bandage off to minimize any residual damage. He steels his resolve in order to lock eyes with his mom before speaking because he doesn't want her to think him anything but sincere right now. "Ok mom" he starts and gives himself a brief _here goes nothing _before spilling the one truth he's kept closely guarded from his parents until now. " I know this may seem like it's coming out of left field, but I want you to know that it really isn't and I've always felt this way and that how I'm feeling isn't really something new." He knows that he's gotten Mary's interest by the way her hand falls away from her chin and she scoots closer. At just that moment, the tea kettle goes off and she goes over to quickly take it off the fire. She returns to the chair that Dean did _not _pull slightly closer for the comfort to say what he's going to say. It's bad enough that he has to come out, but getting the nerve to put his feelings on the table for anyone to see is something that he's not used to, probably never will be.

"There's this guy named Cas that I met when we first moved here" he says and looks up expecting to see shock etched into his mom's features, but all he sees is those same soft eyes that looked at him only a moment ago.

He starts again, choosing carefully to leave out a few details that may get the car taken away. "So there's Cas who goes to Lawrence High with me and Sam. I met him that first night that we were back home and ever since then he's sort of just _been _there. He's always been there, honestly. Everywhere I would be, he'd just show up and before I knew it I was expecting him to always be there, wanting it even."

He jumps slightly as Mary's hand comes up to stroke concentric circles at the top his hand in a motion that is equally soothing and hypnotizing. Despite his protests, his eyes have fallen to the table, unable to meet her eyes like he'd tried so hard to do. It was nearly impossible to rein in the fear that he'd find something that he never wanted to see or learn something he never wanted to know about his mom. "He got under my skin so easily that it's hard to even think about a time when he wasn't and I just…like him" he finishes. After a brief moment he feels Mary's hand move up to cup his and move his face to position reluctantly in front of her own.

"Dean. Dean look at me" she gently orders him and he forces himself to do as she asks. "Do you honestly think, that after loving you, and raising you for all of these years that I wouldn't know this about you?" Dean knows that his eyes have gone comically wide and it's confirmed by the smile on Mary's face.

"Oh _come on_, there's no way you knew" he finally manages to sputter out after his mouth stops opening and closing in turns.

"Did too" she teases him. "But I'm happy that you felt secure enough to actually tell me." She leans over the short distance and presses a kiss to his temple and before she can even think about leaning back Dean grabs onto her and holds on tight. He knows that she can read the "thank you" in the fact that he squeezes just a little bit harder than usual.

He finally pulls back after she gives his back a gentle pat and announces that she's going to go make her cup of tea and Dean's a little dumbstruck by the fact that the world is still spinning, that _his _world is still spinning and nothing's changed.

When he hears Mary's voice before he hits the first stair to his room tell him to bring Cas around for dinner on Thursday he's even more grateful for the fact that no, absolutely nothing has changed at all.


End file.
